More Than Anyone
by InfinitelyBetterThanThe1stOne
Summary: He wanted her, desired her and loved her more than anyone and anything else. It was fortunate that he had the means to take her. Even from Harry Potter. After all, he saved him. [DGH]
1. Chapter 1

**More Than Anyone**

_I'm gonna love you more than anyone…_

**Chapter 1-The Saviour's Saviour**

_"Winners never talk about glorious victories._

_That's because they're the ones who see what the battlefield looks like afterwards._

_It's only the losers who have glorious victories."_

_- Terry Pratchett, Small Gods_

Ginny didn't know how to react when she rushed towards the doors of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, where a small crowd had gathered and parted in the middle to comply with the shouted orders of Neville Longbottom to let through two figures who were actually Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.

Most people would have to take some time to get over the naturally overwhelming fact that at long last, the Dark Lord had truly been vanquished once and for all by none other than the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter.

Said boy was unconscious and had an arm around Draco Malfoy, who was half-naked, wearing only black pants; his robes and a top to go inside it were nowhere to be seen; no shoes adorned his feet to keep off the cold. He was panting, looking as though he was trying hard not to faint, and he finally paused from walking to look directly at Ginny, who was at the middle of the parting in the crowd, and opened his mouth to speak.

"Save…" pant, "Harry…" pant - pant, "Potter," he managed to say, breaking through the shock of the people who all looked as if freedom had just dawned upon them, some of whom were cheering, some crying, others expressing mixed emotions. Capable men took Harry from Draco's supporting arms, saying they would take care of him, while someone closed the doors and Neville took hold of Draco and helped him walk.

"D-don't worry, Malfoy," he said, sounding quite taken-aback at having a talk with Draco Malfoy. "Seamus and Dean will put Harry in the make-shift infirmary and surrender him directly to Madam Pomfrey. She'll fix Harry in a jiffy."

Draco shook his head, not believing the comforting words of the nervous and clumsy Gryffindor, using his other hand to swat away the hands of Neville. "Must… Potter… heal…"

Neville's eyes widened when Draco tried to walk and stumbled, almost falling face flat on the ground if not for Neville's support. "Mate, you should be taken care of yourself. Harry will be healed by the best hands; I'm sure Hermione and Ron—stop calling them Mudblood and filth! Honestly, Malfoy, you shouldn't be insulting people when you're in no good shape to fight!"

Ginny walked towards them and took hold of Draco's other arm, putting it on her much smaller shoulders. "I'll heal him," she told Neville, earning an incredulous look from the boy who knew very well about the Malfoy-Weasley - er - feud. "I'm a practicing medi-witch. I'm sure I have potions inside my room."

She had been helping Madam Pomfrey for days now. Most of the witches were, while the wizards who had remained conjured spells to fit thousands of people into two hundred rooms with the least squabbles they could manage. There were few wizards, for most had been recruited for the Order. But they might be back right away now that Voldemort was gone.

She led the two men into her room where there were piles of potions and medicine books, making Malfoy sit on the bed while she retrieved her wand from the small table in a corner of the room. The room was Gryffindor red, complete with drawings of their mascot.

When she turned to face the men, she saw that Draco had fallen asleep in a sitting position from much exhaustion while Neville was looking at Draco's back, so still and pale that he could have been mistaken for having seen a Basilisk and been frozen by its glare.

"Neville, what's wrong?" Ginny asked with concern, walking around the bed to look at Draco's back.

The sight that greeted her made her knees weak with pity, disgust and sympathy that she fell on the bed, her hands falling to her sides, quite numb.

There were red welts on Draco Malfoy's back where he had undoubtedly been whipped, and some of the gashes had dried blood on them.

No wonder Neville was so pale.

With hands shaking terribly, Ginny managed to stand up from the bed and Summon a clean white cloth and a silver bowl. She filled it up with water just warm enough to kill whatever germs the blond-haired Slytherin might acquire from his lashes.

"Neville, I know that what I'm about to ask as a favour might sound terribly cruel, but could you please wake Malfoy for me? I'd rather he be awake when I clean up his wounds." At Neville's questioning glance, Ginny explained, "We might lose him in his sleep."

Neville nodded with little hesitance and shook Draco slightly until he stirred awake. His grey eyes slowly took in the sight of the room and he stared with half-lidded eyes up at Neville, who took a step back. He obviously did not have much energy to spare since he did not even bother to glare at the boy, but looked threatening nonetheless, even in his battered state.

"What's your problem, Longbottom?" he muttered. Neville looked uneasy, turning his head slightly, eyes darting towards the door as if wanting to escape - and perhaps, he did.

"You can leave now, Neville," Ginny told him, managing a small smile. Concerned for Ginny's welfare, it took some time before Neville nodded, gave a smile of his own and walked out the door.

"This is not the time to take advantage of me, Weasley. I don't even have much energy to keep my eyes open, much less perform." It both irritated and astonished Ginny that Draco Malfoy could make such a lewd remark even in his injured state.

"I am not. I was actually hoping to clean your wounds and apply healing potions on your wounds to heal them. But if you'd rather bleed to death with the pain on your back, then by all means, save me the potions and time," Ginny said sarcastically, annoyed at Draco.

Draco did not reply, but swayed a little to his left, looking alarmingly dizzy, so Ginny hastily helped him upright.

"This will be painful, which is why I put a Silencing Charm on the door. You can shout all you want, I won't tell anyone. I promise," she said whole-heartedly.

He made a sound akin to snorting but was too dignified to make the sound itself.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Disregard your Malfoy pride just for a moment. It helps ease the pain when you shout," she informed him. "You don't have to impress anyone."

Draco stayed silent and Ginny shrugged, squeezed the towel to remove its excess water and made her way towards Draco's back but stopped her hand mid-air, uncertain if she could do this.

Just seeing his wounds made her feel uneasy and put her on the verge of tears. How could anyone do this? How could anyone inflict such suffering on such a young man?

"You can start," Draco Malfoy said quietly, taking Ginny out of her reverie.

She dabbed the cloth as gently as she could, earning no sound from Draco at all. Looking down, she saw that he was clutching her bed sheets tightly, his knuckles white.

"You must be very brave," she commented softly, blushing as she blurted out her thoughts.

"Why would you think that?" he asked her through gritted teeth.

"Well, to go through all this torture… and then in spite of all the pain this is surely causing you to suffer, you even managed to save…" She gulped down the lump in her throat, unable to say his name.

"Potter," he said for her, looking to his left, a faraway look in his eyes. It was obvious that he didn't want to be here.

She nodded. "Harry," she was finally able to say.

"I didn't save him," he said, shaking his head. "I just tried to keep him alive."

"That's synonymous to saving him," she pointed out.

"Are you sure you're not know-it-all Granger?" he asked dryly, raising his eyebrow.

_Well at least he's quickly getting his strength back,_ Ginny thought to herself, seeing his trademark brow-arch.

Ginny's mouth quirked upwards. "Quite sure… she'd be lecturing you if she were in my place," she said, gently sliding the cloth to an unmarked small space of flesh, clearing out the dried blood and dipping the blood-drenched towel back into the bowl. Squeezing out as much blood as she could, she swished her wand to put new water in the silver bowl. She didn't include that despite having worked with Draco to plan the downfall of Voldemort, or finding out that Draco had saved Harry, Hermione would still need to be persuaded strongly before she would heal Draco.

"Ah, good point," he said, suddenly agreeable for once, probably because of the pain he was feeling. "But then, she'd never readily volunteer herself to help me even if I were on the verge of dying," he said softly, making Ginny feel as if he knew the words she had left unsaid.

"You don't know that," Ginny said, swift in defending her friend but sounding unconvincing for she was unsure if Hermione _would_ do so herself.

"And," he said softly, "I never thought you would too." He said it in such a sincere sort of way that he unconsciously warmed Ginny's heart considerably towards the die-hard Slytherin, Draco. It got her thinking that no matter what Draco Malfoy had done or who he was-son of Death Eater and stuck-up full-blooded wizard extraordinaire, he didn't deserve such torture.

"Everyone's lining up to help Harry… think of it this way, Malfoy: if everyone wants to be a part of the team healing Harry," at this point Draco muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'The Dark Lord Slayer', "then how about those injured who did their part to help the Order but aren't Harry Potter?" Ginny told him matter-of-factly, nodding her head, thoroughly convinced of what she had said.

"You're very considerate, She-Weasley," he complimented her. "Such a sacrifice not to see the boy you've been crazy about forever to save a Slytherin."

"She-Weasley?" she prodded, dodging his prying comment.

"Yeah, your kind is vast but not much female to go around, just strength to make lots of heirs."

_And that's putting it nicely_, Ginny knew he was thinking, from his tone.

Ginny wanted to slap him, but it would be downright cruelty to inflict further pain on an already-injured man. And even though she wanted to slab the potion haphazardly onto his back and let him shriek in pain as too much potion would burn his back, she controlled herself and applied the potion gently, making a thin layer of shiny cream on his back, eliciting a hiss of pain from him and causing him to recoil from her such that she had to stop her ministrations. The potion was fast-relieving but of course it came with the price of some amount of pain. It dried the wounds quickly so that it would heal completely in just a few days. Putting more than enough would burn the wounds and increase their severity. She tried to do it more gently than she already was, not bothering to break the silence, awkward as it was, for she knew it was better than the bickering that would surely ensue should she start a conversation.

However, Malfoy put it upon himself to fill the void of silence. "Is this your dream job, Weasley, to become a mediwitch?" he asked in a patronising way that made Ginny clench her fist. Maybe it was the trace of disdain and boredom in his voice that ticked her off more. "I can't imagine why one would want to be a mediwitch," he said, more as a loud opinion to himself.

"Because it takes a lot of compassion to treat wounded people, Malfoy, or aren't you familiar with that emotion? No, it is not my dream job to be a mediwitch, Malfoy but I feel a sense of responsibility for the people who have risked their lives for a better future if not for themselves, then for their loved ones. I appreciate their sacrifices and helping those who…" _did not die_ "…were harmed in this battle, and helping people heal themselves is but a small compensation for not being there with them, for not fighting with them." _For not being with Harry_…

"You have no responsibility to these people and neither should you feel a sense of gratitude for what they have done, for it is their choice, their will to serve and fight for the Order." He didn't include himself, he did not use 'our', although he was clearly one of those people that had risked their lives, and Ginny vaguely wondered why.

"And it is _my_ will and _my_ choice to heal them. Why are you questioning me, Malfoy?" Ginny asked, pausing from her second layering of another potion that would numb the pain for Draco for at least ten hours to allow him to sleep for a while, putting her hands on her hips and finally asking him directly, but he was unable to give an answer.

It suddenly occurred to Ginny that Draco felt uneasy about her willing compassion to help _him_. Maybe he had grown up knowing that those who surrounded him who made an effort to show care had ulterior motives and would likely hurt him in the process of getting what they wanted. Ginny suddenly felt sympathy for Draco Malfoy.

How could he live like that, always watching his back, doing his best to always be one step ahead? He had put into his head the idea that everyone had the intention of hurting him so he instilled in himself cunning and slyness so that he would always be protected.

Ginny knew _she_ wouldn't be able to survive living like that.

"I can see pity in your eyes, She-Weasley. I don't need it," Draco said coldly, his grey eyes sharp.

She immediately tried to stop herself from thinking beyond getting Malfoy healed and done with. As soon as she was done… her cheeks coloured a light shade of rose. As soon as she was done with her responsibility which was currently Draco Malfoy, she would go directly to Harry's side, inquire of his condition and take care of him and wait for him to wake up. She wanted to be there when he awakened, despite the fact that their relationship had ended two years ago and actually only lasted for a few weeks then.

Still, no matter how hard she tried to stay away, she couldn't. Love could be harboured in a day and still be alive for years even if your love affair had been immensely quick. For it is the intensity of the emotion and ministrations that are given which is measured and not the time spent. There was something about Harry that pulled her to him. Maybe it was his hero-complex. But Ginny didn't think so. It was more than that, deeper than that, she thought.

Finally, Ginny dropped the potions onto the table and waved her wand to magically put the table and the healing potions into a corner of the room, to declare that they were done.

"I'll show you to a room where you can have a night's sleep," she told Malfoy shortly. He raised an eyebrow.

"How many rooms are there in this place?" he asked curiously.

"It's enchanted to have two-hundred counted. The trapdoors, secret rooms - I'm not sure how many there are of those. A hundred and fifty rooms are used by the many inhabitants of Grimmauld Place needing help—don't raise your eyebrow—namely, the sick, disabled and those who don't have a home to stay in anymore. The other fifty are divided between healing and housing those who are Healers and Protectors," she informed him as quickly as she could without sounding like she was rapping.

"You're going to confine me in a room with another person?" he asked her point-blank. He had his left hand on his right shoulder, as if trying to see if he could touch his back; it would suddenly shoot bolts of pain through his entire body.

Her mouth quirked at the side. "You saved the saviour. I guess that warrants you your own room."

"How very considerate of you." Somehow, Ginny didn't think it was very much a compliment.

She draped a blanket on his back gently so that the cold would not go to his back when the potions had dried. Personally, she didn't like putting anything on a freshly-potioned portion of a body for she imagined it was like putting petroleum jelly on the side of your face you sleep on and that was just disgusting. But then again, the potion had dried and Malfoy didn't seem to mind much anyway.

She supported his arm as she opened the door and they walked out sideways. She looked around, trying to remember where she had heard there were still vacancies. Some of the Aurors and Healers preferred not to sleep alone for different reasons. Ginny had wanted her own room, disliking having to socialise when she was tired.

She opened the door to a room and weirdly enough, it had a green theme.

"Well, look at this! The perfect room," she commented, helping Malfoy to sit on the forest green comforter on the bed. "This must be fate. Or maybe it's enchanted to fit the person's personality."

Draco raised a dark blond brow. "You think I'm green-minded?" he asked her in a half-bored, half-curious tone. "And you're supposed to be romantic and fiery because you have a red room?"

She shook her head at his assumption. "I just think you're Slytherin to the core," she said simply.

"Grow up, She-Weasley; we're not in Hogwarts anymore. House colours are just what they are," he said coldly, his grey eyes narrowed.

"It's Ginny, okay? Ginny. Not Virginia but Ginevra shortened to Ginny. Blimey," she said exasperatedly slapping a palm on her forehead and earning an eyebrow arch from Draco "do I have to go on and on? A bloke was chatting me up the other day, kept calling me Virgin-not and I had half a mind to just cut off his—" Draco held up a hand, a gesture for her to stop and she did.

"Well, no one knew your real name, now, did they? It's not as if any of your several brothers called you anything else but your nickname."

When she looked like she was about to speak, Draco cut in again.

"Then Ginny it is," he said soothingly, as if he were talking to a child throwing a big temper tantrum.

She nodded her head, ignoring his mocking. "Good. Well, I'm off. After ten hours, I'll see to your back. Until then, have a good night's rest," she said, attempting a small smile, and closed the door behind her, not looking at Malfoy at all.

While she was walking, she suddenly whipped her head towards his room. Wait a minute; he didn't even have the manners to tell _her_ to call _him_ Draco!

**OxOxOxOxO**

For a long time, Draco just looked at the door, pondering. He was kind of taken aback by she—er, _Ginny_. He had never felt the emotion of being in love with someone; although he had been in a lot of relationships with women, he had never felt that emotion they all called 'love.' Sure, he had felt fondness and desire, but that was typical for a male his age. But he was sort of certain that if it were true that Ginny_ was_ in love with Potter, wouldn't she want to be fawning over him? Wouldn't she want to just push away every other person and see to him personally?

He imagined that if he ever felt this emotion, he'd be punching his way to the person he cared for. But freckled chalk-white (why she was so pale, Draco did not know, but he guessed it was because of the state of his back) Ginny opted to stay with him and heal him; even argue with him, which was very peculiar. She did say that she considered him a hero, but was that enough reason to put his life first before Harry's? She had justified her reasons, but it still befuddled him.

_Maybe she likes me, _Draco thought to himself in a joking manner and it made him smirk outwardly and laugh his head off inwardly. Yeah, right. For generations, their clans had been fighting and it would not be up to him to break a long, long tradition of war between Malfoy and Weasley. Then again, he had turned his back on his father when he decided to fight for The Order. He had let himself be tortured for saving Harry Potter, for acting as a double agent. Right now for Draco, anything was possible. In fact, he could be seeing a silver-haired angel right now who had suddenly opened the door…

"Who're you?" he asked (unconsciously rudely) the seemingly angel-like entity in the shape of a woman. The entity smiled at him and closed the door. The glow behind 'her' back somewhat diminished but her body, from head to toe still seemed to glimmer.

"I do not expect you to remember me," the person said in a heavy French accent (she pronounced you as "ee-yu"). She seemed to have a very bad cold. "Our conversation 'as been very brief, but I am very thankful zat you followed my instructions."

_Pronounce well, woman_, Draco wanted to say, but refrained from doing so. He couldn't seem to be able to remember her. He was sure he would have been able to remember such a beautiful face, from the woman's blonde hair tinted with silver to her beautiful heart-shaped face and her pink lips. But he did not. It was very odd for him, for he rarely forgot about anything. He could even remember what his mother said when he was two years old and he wanted to ride an eagle. It was 'no'.

"Instructions?" he echoed her last word. The woman came closer, and when the light had left her figure, he remembered her. It dawned upon him that she was the woman he had met by the Astronomy tower one night when he was in his seventh year at Hogwarts. It was very dark and their only source of light was the stars and the moon, which was the reason he was not able to recognise her quickly. He had been given a letter by an owl to meet someone in the Astronomy tower. He had considered it quite peculiar but thought better to find out for himself who it was.

Maybe he shouldn't have been much surprised. After what he had done the year previous to that, he should never have returned. He should have, in fact, been expelled. But the portrait of Dumbledore had spoken and said he'd rather let Draco finish his studies. Dumbledore had been quite disappointed that Ron, Hermione and Harry did not make an effort to finish their school, although he knew it was because Harry wanted to go in search of Voldemort's weaknesses and to gain experience.

Of course, his two loyal best friends would not let him get himself into trouble alone. They were like a package deal, a buy-one take-two bargain Draco didn't really fancy but envied nonetheless. He was jealous that two people in their (debatably) right minds would follow him to the depths of hell when _his_ two own goons would not. Now he knew it: when people despised him, were hateful, they left him. At Christmas, they did not return to Hogwarts, joining instead the ranks of Voldemort. He knew that the two, Crabbe and Goyle were dead. He had seen them himself, being punished by the Dark Lord for being stupid enough not to be able to go the right direction to a Death Eaters' camp (and being held hostage by the Order of the Phoenix and thus tortured for information by the harsher members). They had betrayed information and when they escaped the clutches of the Order, they were killed by hands they had once followed and accepted as their Lord.

Their parents had not even begged for their lives. And Draco had just closed his eyes and looked away, he himself being whipped on the back at that time.

"Yes, I was ze woman 'oo made you decide your pledge of allegiances." She smiled up at him, batting her eyelashes in a manner that would make most men adore her, but he surprisingly enough was immune to her extraordinarily good looks.

_Probably got used to looking in the mirror at myself_, he thought to himself off-handedly. He nodded his head, barely understanding her words. "Yes, I remember now," he told her, assuring her. "You're Gabrielle, am I right? You know, I can understand French and if you'd rather speak in your native language, then it is all right with me."

"No matter, I am off," the woman said, happy now that Draco had identified her. "I just wanted to thank you. If it wasn't for you, ze cause wuzn't 'ave won."

He really just wished she would speak in French. The accent was kind of annoying. So he started to speak in French, hoping that she would follow suit.

"If it hadn't been for Harry, the cause would have lost. It is not my place to accept your gratitude; it is yours to give it to Harry."

As he had expected, she spoke in French, delighted that he did in fact speak French. He suspected she didn't believe that he would be able to understand her language and could even speak it.

"Ah, but if you didn't save Harry, he wouldn't have been able to follow his destiny." With that, she stood up and opened the door, seemed to have forgotten something and turned to smile at Draco. "Have a good night's rest, Draco."

Draco just nodded, looking at her in a way that was not like looks he regularly gave. It was neither calculating nor cold, nor was it warm. It was simply blank a look.

She closed the door behind her and Draco could hear her footsteps as she went off her merry way.

He smirked to himself, shaking his head. For some reason, this amused him. He hadn't been expecting people to thank him, to give him a medal or a plaque or even just recognition for helping the saviour do his job, and he still wasn't. But hearing two very attractive women (did he really just think that Ginny Weasley was attractive?) compliment him very truthfully made him feel… good. And it was not a very familiar feeling for him. Nonetheless, it made him snap his fingers so that he was suddenly lying on the bed with the comforter making its way to cover him.

With that, he closed his eyes.

**OxOxOxOxO**

Ginny was hesitating to open the door. She had been excited to see Harry again, hoping he had already been cleaned up by now and was resting. She was eager to run her hands over his and touch his cheek. But when she reached out to turn the knob, it felt as if suddenly something had pulled her elbow and her hand wasn't able to open the door.

She looked around her, but no one was there. Why was there a sense of foreboding when she tried to open the door? Was she afraid that he would ignore her again, like he had years ago when he had thought of her as _just_ Ron's little sister? That he wouldn't even ask for her? That he would suddenly say that what he felt before was puppy love and he didn't really love her? Or that he didn't love her anymore?

Her hand was shaking, and she took a seat on the wooden chair next to the door. There were lines of chairs where patients were to wait for their turn. But now, it was empty. Healers or Mediwitches had been knocking on everyone's door to see to it that everyone was all right. Most carried special watches with them, so that they could give potions to the patients at the proper time, and it really was a big responsibility, Ginny herself had one and she fiddled with it inside her pocket.

The door suddenly opened and Seamus Finnigan looked at her, blue eyes wide with surprise. "Ginny, came to see Harry?"

Ginny nodded her head, smiling nervously up at him; he gave her a thumbs-up and a winning smile (that even made Ginny blush a bit). He really was a looker. In a classic prince sort of way. He looked very much like Prince Phillip in Sleeping Beauty, the tall prince who was a bit on the naughty side, going out of the castle and walking with his horse on the forest where he found Aurora, Sleeping Beauty—who was obviously not yet asleep at that time.

He had blonde hair which was darker than Draco's but still looked fine. He was broad and tall, perfect for being a Chaser and he was an all-around good guy. Lavender was very lucky.

"Ginny?" He frowned, waving his hand in front of her face, making her step back in surprise. "I said Harry will be all right. He even woke up for maybe about ten seconds an hour ago, asking where Malfoy is," he said, eyebrows going up and down in a joking fashion. "Blimey, Harry might've changed his sexual preferences!"

Ginny laughed, truly laughed. She had never heard something as ridiculous as Seamus had suggested. Harry changing his sexual preferences? It wasn't like that at all. Draco had saved Harry and it was natural for Harry to be looking for his—dare she think of it?—hero.

"That's quite a theory, Seamus. Perhaps that explains why Malfoy was dragging him in here?" She raised an eyebrow at him, grinning. His mouth quirked to the side, amused.

"It just might," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Well, I have to go, Lav must be waiting for me now. I'll tell her you said hi?" She smiled and nodded. He started walking away, leaving her standing at the doorway, still unable to go inside.

"Oh bollocks," she muttered to herself and with her eyes closed, pushed the door open.

"Ginny!" Hermione's voice was not hard to decipher. She threw her arms around her and patted Hermione's back in return. "Harry's going to be all right!"

Her heart seemed to have skipped a beat when Hermione had given her the good news. Of course, she was anticipating the best. This was Harry they were talking about. She couldn't imagine losing him to death by war or by sickness. No, she pictured that Harry would grow old, happy and content with grandchildren to spoil and more wonderful things like that… with her.

It was a childish fantasy, but then again, it was not far to becoming a reality. Most girls could only imagine being close to Harry, but Ginny was lucky enough to have the opportunity to spend time with the hero.

"That's so relieving to hear," she sighed, looking over Hermione's shoulder, over to where Harry was being cared for by Madam Pomfrey. Hermione smiled knowingly and Ron, who was sitting on a chair much like the one Ginny had sat on only moments ago, gestured to her to come closer with his hand.

She did, a bit hesitantly. She took her time to get closer to him. And when she did, what she saw took her breath away. This was how Harry Potter should always look like: his glasses were on the table on his other side, and there were no more gashes or wounds visible on his face for Madame Pomfrey had already cleaned him up. And he looked so… so peaceful.

Ginny had never seen him look so peaceful.

"There's something tranquil about Harry now, don't you think?" Ron whispered cheerfully. "With You-Know-Who gone and all, Harry has a reason to sleep well again." Hermione chuckled a bit.

Ginny touched Harry's forehead, brushing away the bangs covering it, just as she had been longing to do for a long while now, and saw that the thin lightning-shaped scar had not disappeared. She was not surprised. It wasn't a battle scar; it was a mark of love: a symbol of Harry's mother's love for him that had kept him mostly safe.

"Did he break any of his bones? Does he have fractures?" Ginny asked Ron and Hermione quietly. Hermione shook her head.

"No, none at all, which is sort of surprising. I would have thought that going against Voldemort—oh shush Ron, we can say his name freely now!—he'd have more severe injuries than what he had."

"But then again, he's Harry. Staying alive is his specialty," Ron said.

"I guess you're right," Ginny agreed, tracing Harry's lids and cheekbones.

"But a while ago, the most perplexing thing happened, Ginny," Hermione told her, frowning. Ginny looked at her, looking at her questioningly to go on. "He called for… Malfoy. He didn't even call him Malfoy, but Draco. As if they were friends."

"We have got to stop this last-name calling thing going on. I mean really, why don't we just call the people by their first names like most people do? In other countries, it's perfectly natural—" Ginny said, having already known what Hermione was talking about, yet just going off on the name-thing, but Hermione interrupted her.

"In China and Japan they call people by their last name," Hermione pointed out. Ron rolled his eyes, and made a gesture with his hand to quietly tell Ginny to just stop the new topic.

"Well you see, Hermione, I was there when Malfoy brought Harry here," Ginny confessed. Ron and Hermione's eyes widened.

"You mean it was Draco Malfoy that brought him here?" Ron asked her, looking positively outraged.

"I thought it was Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas!" Hermione said, mostly to herself.

Ginny shook her head to disagree. "No, Neville opened the gates and we were all shocked when we saw Malfoy almost carrying Harry with Harry's arm draped over his shoulders, saying that we should save Harry. Harry was unconscious; Seamus and Dean were quick to carry Harry here." Ginny didn't bother to give more detail, about how Draco was also wounded and half-naked. She didn't think it was very relevant.

Hermione and Ron looked very surprised. And before she could say another word, the door opened and they all looked to see the Weasley family streaming inside. Charlie, Fred and George looked joyous behind their mother, who had her arms open, ready to embrace Harry (but she restrained herself when she saw Harry out cold) and her father looked so merry to know that Harry was all right and the battle had been won by the Order.

"Congratulations, Harry!" Bill said, an arm around Fleur, who looked beautiful smiling in her white dress, a red satin ribbon on her head.

Everyone put their index finger to their lips and made a hushing sound.

"Harry's asleep, Bill dear," Molly Weasley said, looking fondly at Harry.

"Ah," said Bill. He didn't say any more as they all gathered around Harry; Ron stood up from his chair and let Ginny occupy it as she held Harry's hand in both of hers.

She was about to blurt out that Draco Malfoy had saved Harry, but thought it best to come from Harry himself. Perhaps Harry's best friends thought in the same line as she did, for they didn't speak.

Mrs. Weasley reached her hand to ruffle Harry's jet-black hair. "Look how peaceful he is, Arthur," she said, smiling fondly at the boy.

"Ah, he deserves it," Arthur said benevolently.

"After what the boy's gone through, and at such a tender age," Molly said sadly.

"War picks no man, mum," Bill said gravely. The wolfish hairs on his arms were gone, probably waxed off by Fleur, which seemed like a painful notion to Ginny.

"Or boy," George added.

"Luckily, Harry here can take him on!" Fred added cheerfully and that made them all grin.

_Yes, yes he can_ Ginny thought to herself, stroking Harry's fingers with her own.

Ginny stayed the night in the makeshift infirmary beside Harry. Ron wasn't allowed by his parents, for he was also needed to patrol through the city to look for war survivors and bring them here. Fred and George had opted to stay and rush people through the doors and into the infirmary if they needed to be healed—or if they could still be healed. Bill and Charlie had gone separate ways in search for Death Eaters to put into Azkaban. Basically, everyone was busy and Ginny had forced Hermione to sleep in her room.

"You're sure?" Hermione asked, reluctant to leave Harry alone—not that she did not think Ginny capable of looking out for Harry, but Harry was sort of her brother—but her eyes were heavy from exhaustion and her movements were slow from it as well.

"Yes, I'm sure," Ginny said, nodding. Hermione covered her mouth as a yawn escaped from it and she blinked.

"But tomorrow, you'll have to get some sleep too, Ginny." Ginny nodded and promised that she would.

**OxOxOxOxO**

Harry awoke without his eyes open. He couldn't seem to be able to open them, but he could hear voices around him.

"Oh shush, Ron! That's positively rubbish!" he heard Hermione's voice say near him.

"Well yes it is, but it is absolutely entertaining in times like this," Ron said amiably. Hermione gave an exasperated sigh.

"Then entertain yourself quietly. This is an infirmary, people are resting," Hermione hissed at him.

Harry's body felt numb. He felt as if he was just inside his brain and his body was distant and really couldn't be felt. He sighed and concentrated hard, and finally, he could feel his right fingers. The voices of people around him suddenly started speaking all at the same time. He could hear Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's voice as they gasped when they saw his fingers twitch. He could hear Fleur's heavily accentuated voice suggest something, George and Fred's voices were indistinguishable, but he knew they were both talking. He tried to open his eyes successfully. But his eyesight was blurry.

Of course it was, he realised; he wasn't wearing glasses.

"Wew'mlasses?" he mumbled.

"Did you hear that, Arthur? Pass the boy his glasses!" Molly Weasley cried. He wasn't sure how Mrs. Weasley was able to understand the utterly incoherent babble that came out of his mouth, but perhaps it was due to her many experiences being the mother of seven children.

"Ah yes dear. Here you go, Harry," Arthur Weasley righted Harry's glasses on his face and Harry blinked. Mrs. Weasley wasted no time in enveloping Harry with her embrace.

"Oh Harry! We're so glad you're safe!" Mrs. Weasley cried, hugging him, but all he could see was the top of her red-haired head.

"Oh Harry!" Hermione and Ron were waving to him; Hermione looked ready to embrace him also and Ron had already clapped his shoulder in a silent 'well done, mate'. He tried to sit up, but was unable to do it alone, so Charlie and George hoisted him up, looking at him proudly. Of what they were proud of, he wasn't sure.

It dawned upon him suddenly as he was jolted more awake. He could remember the shouts, the fire, the laughter and he remembered the feeling of his burnt right hand when he raised his wand to speak a curse that would end the wizarding world's misery once and for all. He remembered his voice loud and clear, overpowering all of the voices around him as he shouted the curse.

Disappointingly, he couldn't remember what it was.

He looked at his right hand, mildly surprised that it was bandaged.

"Madame Pomfrey bandaged it, Harry." Hermione spoke softly, breaking into his reverie.

"Will I have a scar to bear?" he asked quietly.

The buzzing questions of the Weasleys and Hermione were halted so suddenly. They all looked at him in a manner that would suggest they felt equally proud and sorry for him. Mr Weasley looked uneasily at him, nodding his head as he lowered it.

"You will, Harry," Mr Weasley said. "It was… inflicted by using a dangerous kind of magic, much like what happened to Dumbledore's wand hand."

Harry turned his hand, looking at his bandage-covered knuckles. His fingers, which he remembered had been soiled with dirt and grime, were now cut and clean.

"Good. I don't want it to fade away. I want it to serve… as a memory." He offered a small smile, but Fred and George looked at him weirdly. Hell, even Ron looked at him strangely. But Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Charlie, Bill and Fleur seemed to have understood. "A memory that finally, we're free from the dangers of being under Voldemort's influence or rule again…"

"A mark to show you survived," Fred added quietly, finally realising what Harry had meant. Harry nodded.

He looked around, now realising someone was missing. His heart skipped a beat. Ginny.

Oh, how he'd longed for her while he was in battle. One of the reasons that he had stayed alive was the thought of her, the feeling he felt when he closed his eyes and saw her smiling at him. Like he could do anything; he could fly without wings just by the will of it, just by her smile… he was becoming a deranged romantic.

And Draco! He remembered Draco (for Draco insisted on being called by his first name) being tortured because of his allegiances. He remembered Draco telling him where to go, remembered Draco running towards him before his sight had totally darkened and he had fallen asleep…

"Where's Ginny? Where's Draco?" he demanded.

"Ginny stayed with you the whole night, till just a while ago," Ron informed him.

"We wanted to let her rest, she's been healing everyone who has been knocking on the door for two weeks now and she hasn't got adequate sleep so we sent her to her room to sleep," Hermione explained.

"What about Draco?" Harry raised his head so that he was eye to eye with Hermione. "Is he here? Is he alive?"

Ron's parents gave him a strange look, but Ron nodded in affirmation. "Yep, the Slytherin Blondie survived."

Harry looked instantly relieved, which aroused questions. "Why are you looking for Malfoy, mate?" George asked him.

"Yeah, and why are you calling him his first name?" Fred asked.

"Because mates," he looked at them all before sighing, gulping to relieve himself of the nervousness and gratitude he felt as small flashbacks of hearing Draco tell him they were on the way to Grimmauld Place and feeling Draco adjust his arm on his shoulders hit him, "Draco Malfoy saved my life."

**OxOxOxOxO**

The immense pain on Draco's back awoke him. He arched his back but made no sound, breathing gingerly so that it wouldn't sting so much. A minute later, after he heard quick footsteps in the hall, the door slammed open and a frantic Ginny Weasley rushed to his side, quickly waving her wand as she said the incantations in her mind.

She started right away with cleaning Draco's back, apologising profusely as she did so. Draco stopped her incoherent babble by saying, "All right, all right! Just do what you have to do." He turned his back again so that Ginny could work thoroughly on it. For a long time, there was silence; Ginny didn't speak until she was applying the quick-drying potion that would seal the other potions on Draco's back.

"When I got to Harry yesterday, Ron and Hermione said that an hour before I visited Harry, he woke up and was asking for you," Ginny said softly, blowing on Draco's back to cool the potion quicker, sending sparks of something unbeknownst to Draco through his spine.

"How sweet. I didn't know Potter and I were so close," he said in his usual sarcastic manner of speaking.

"You did save his life," she pointed out yet again.

"Let's get past that, Ginny," he sighed.

She smiled, evidently liking the way he said her name but quickly blushed when she seemed to realise what she was thinking was wrong. "But I'm not yet ready to give it up. It makes you uncomfortable doesn't it?" she teased and he sighed again, too exhausted to really have a scathing remark.

"Why, oh why, are you dangling it in front of my face as if it's some ball of yarn and I'm a cat, longing to pounce on it?" he asked her. "Do you really want me to be all: 'Face it Harry, you owe me a lot for saving your insignificant life. Buy me a house with a garden. I want a slave girl at my beck and call. I want my own flying car, a Cadibrush, the latest model' and other demands?"

"Harry's life isn't insignificant," Ginny protested.

Draco wanted to hurl something against the wall, frustrated and curious at the same time. "Why do you always seem to stop hearing everything else when you encounter a word you don't like?"

"It's bad to interrupt, my mum says, so I let you finish," she grinned, seeming to know perfectly well she was annoying Malfoy and that he was getting worked up.

"How very courteous of you," Draco said sarcastically. "In a very Weasley manner I mean." She rolled her eyes, not even snapping at Malfoy's jab on her family. Draco reflected that it would've been a childish thing to do.

"Well, I'm done now, so I'm off," she said, waving her wand hand once again to make all the potions disappear. "Remember, you can't take a shower, unless you want to be subjected to immense pain."

"Yes, I'll keep it in mind," he muttered, annoyed as hell for he felt so dirty. It was a good thing that Ginny had handed him clothes before she went away yesterday so he was able to clean himself and at least fit into boxers.

"Have fun in your sponge bath, Malfoy," she told him sweetly, grinning. Malfoy sneered at her, having enough energy to do that at least. "By the way," Ginny said, pausing as she opened the door out, her eyes openly questioning, "do you really want a slave girl at your beck and call?"

Draco smirked in a lazy, amused manner, "Of course I do. Any self-respecting straight guy does."

With her question answered, Ginny rolled her eyes and closed the door behind her, but not before calling out, "I'll be sure to tell Harry he owes you one."

"I want one who's pretty, tell him," Draco called back.

**OxOxOxOxO**

"He what?" Arthur Weasley asked Harry Potter again, bewildered that this eighteen-year-old boy who looked weak from fighting for the cause and very pale, looked so resolute. His green eyes were strong and firm, showing what was really inside this fragile-looking boy who really wasn't fragile at all. His jet black hair was even more ruffled than usual as he ran his hand through it, and his lips were cracked and almost white.

Harry looked at him now without hesitance whatsoever and repeated it again, "Draco Malfoy saved me."

"Tell us, Harry, how?" Molly Weasley prodded him gently.

"He led me towards the castle where Voldemort was staying." He looked at them all, to see if they were all listening to his every word. "He said he knew this place by heart, for they owned it, the Malfoy Clan. His father, Lucius Malfoy offered it to Voldemort to compensate for what he had done. But he was not pleased, sent someone to kill Mr. Malfoy in Azkaban….

"When the Death Eaters found us, we fought for as long as we could. Separated from the others, we weren't able to hold them off for long, and… and Snape came, leading us to his Lord's lair. But I was released through Voldemort's bidding, while someone masked was told to whip Malfoy. I don't know how many lashes he got; he didn't make a sound, not when they tortured him. He even made snide remarks, and another Death Eater punched him in the face. I was livid; we both were. And I tried to reach him, to save him, but Voldemort kept me in place. He asked for a duel. I was struggling to beat him - the year I didn't attend Hogwarts, I trained, trained and trained so that when the time came for me to meet him we would be matched… but I wasn't strong enough, it seemed. My wand was taken away from me once Voldemort shouted an incantation. He was above me…

"Draco shouted, kicked something towards me, and I looked down to see it was a wand: my wand. Maybe it was near him; I don't know - but I quickly cursed Voldemort into oblivion."

"Oh Harry," Mrs. Weasley said in a sympathetic voice, stroking his arm. He smiled a little at the plump old woman who was a mother-figure to him.

"So that's how he saved you, mate," somebody said, but Harry wasn't looking; he was still getting flashbacks from the inside of his lids and he closed them momentarily, reliving that time with such intensity he shook somewhat.

"That's not all… when I was a bit unconscious, people were shouting… the resistance was there - Lupin was there - everyone was trying to take out the other, there were sparks flying from wands, but my vision was getting blurry. Even though Draco was tortured, even more so than I was, he… he tried to save me, I don't know how he got away from being chained, though. He carried me towards here, when he could have left me for dead. Even in his state, he gave up his life to save me."

There was silence as everyone processed this. They had never known, even when Draco Malfoy joined the Order, that he was capable of this. Sure, he was an invaluable person to the Order: it was expected; it was actually the only reason they let him in. There were times that he and Harry spited one another, but they would also laugh. The competition was still there, but it had become a friendlier one, as they became closer. It was not something that Malfoy actually acknowledged as friendship; it would be too awkward for him to do so, but it was.

"We… didn't know he could do it," Ron said quietly. "When Hermione and I reached the castle to back you up, we couldn't find you. I think you were on another wing, and we were faced with werewolves. Lupin was there and he helped us out; we were like kids, scrambling about, getting some hits, but not all. The Felix Felicis we drank was very useful; thanks to Professor Slughorn sharing the recipe with us so Hermione could brew some. When they said you were in grave danger, Hermione and I separated from them all and fought our way to help you. But when we got there, Aurors and people from the Order were cleaning up. We thought…" Ron looked like he was on the verge of crying, so did Hermione. They hung on to each other for support. "We thought you died, mate."

"We didn't stop looking for you, Harry. We didn't give up on you; we hoped someone would have saved you."

"And someone did," Harry said softly, quickly forgiving his friends for not physically being there with him. He didn't want them to be, actually. They would also have been subjected to torture if they had been with him.

The two nodded. "Malfoy," Hermione said.

**OxOxOxOxO**

Ginny looked around, trying to remember if there had been anyone she had forgotten to cure, but she knew that Draco Malfoy was the last on her list. Satisfied that she had done her part for that morning, she walked towards the infirmary where Harry was confined. Now without hesitance, she opened the door to find that every eye was on her. It was like a big, long bush of unlevelled red hair surrounding the bed, like a barrier so that one couldn't see who they were visiting. Identical brown eyes were looking at her.

"Er, hello everyone," she said, smiling with uncertainty.

Then the red long bushed attacked her! Well, not _really_ attacked. They all hugged her - even Fleur and Hermione were partaking in the hugging. There were many choruses of 'we missed you!' and they were all interrogating her in a babbling sort of way that made her head ache.

"Calm down, everyone," she laughed. "I'm here to see Harry, where is he?" she asked, tiptoeing, but was blocked by the forms of Fred and George who grinned at her knowingly, making her blush.

"Just right there, Gin - waiting for you." Fred winked, his head cocked to the side, indicating Harry.

They parted to let her walk towards Harry. Harry was looking at her, looking so relieved that she was all right. Her heart automatically warmed when she saw that he cared so much about her. Not many people outside of her family cared that much for her, to look as if he could find peace now that it was confirmed that she was all right.

Her eyes were watery with happiness and her smile was shaking. She walked timidly, not trusting herself to act with poise. She knew that if she walked quickly, she would be bawling, embracing Harry so tight. It would be very embarrassing.

"Ginny," he breathed as she sat next to him, holding his hand in hers. She brushed a stray strand of hair out of his eye.

"Hello Harry," she answered. "I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up, I was checking on—" she tried to explain, but Harry cut her off.

"You don't have to explain. What matters is that now you're here," he told her so tenderly that she wanted to embrace him - so she did. She stood up and embraced him gently, so that he wouldn't be crushed by her weight. He returned the hug, rubbing her back.

"I'm so glad you're safe… when I saw Malfoy dragging you inside," she gasped, trying desperately to fight the sob from escaping.

"Shush, don't cry Ginny," he comforted her, and she marvelled at how it felt to embrace Harry once again. She missed him so much, even more than she had thought, she realised.

After a while, she sat down again. The Weasleys, along with Fleur and Hermione, had smiled at them and left without a sound, but she was oblivious to it.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" she inquired, smiling.

"I feel much better now that you're here," he said, making her blush. "I thought I wouldn't live through it, but here I am."

"You're meant to live, Harry. You're meant to be happy. After all you've been through." She closed her eyes, shook her head and smiled, squeezing Harry's hand. "No one deserves to be happy more than you do." There could be no adequate reply to that.

"Where's Draco?"

She had expected him to ask her that. "He's safe, he's in his room. I asked a Healer to bring him breakfast while I was walking towards the infirmary."

"So he's safe?"

She nodded. "Yes, but the wounds on his back have yet to heal. They're quite severe and not very easy to heal," she informed him. She saw emotion flash through his eyes but it quickly disappeared.

"He saved me."

She nodded again. She knew that; she knew the sacrifice Malfoy had made for Harry. Why he would have done that, she wasn't sure. But he wasn't boasting about it.

"I know… he wouldn't admit it though," she chuckled softly.

"He's like that, I suppose. Unless it's a small thing - he won't really flaunt something like that," Harry said, not looking at Ginny, but seeming to be lost in his own reverie.

"Yes, he wouldn't take credit for it."

"You talked to him?" Harry asked, surprised and curious.

"Yes, I was the one who healed him," she admitted, finding nothing wrong with that.

Harry sighed and smiled. "I'm happy. At least I know he was taken care of by the best hands possible. I'm kind of jealous though, why didn't you take care for me?" He pouted teasingly.

Ginny laughed, running her hand through her long straight red hair that curled slightly down the back. "Oh, poor baby." She kissed his cheek. "Because I don't think I would've been able to handle seeing you look so… injured… I wanted someone with more experience to take care of you. So that I'm sure you'll be fine." His hand found its way out of her hands and onto her cheek. "I didn't want to inflict more pain than you already have undergone."

"You should trust yourself more, Ginny. You should know you won't hurt me," he said. Ginny felt a rush at the knowledge that Harry had so much faith in her.

"Thanks Harry," Ginny said, appreciating Harry's trust in her.

"So, when do you think I'll be able to get out of here?"

"Maybe when you're properly healed, you don't have a lot of wounds anymore. As a matter of fact, the only thing left is your right hand," she said, indicating his other hand.

"Doesn't Madam Pomfrey have a quick-drying potion for this?"

Ginny shook her head. "Sometimes you have to wait for it to heal, Harry. Not everything can be answered or cured by magic. Take the heart for example." Harry gave her an odd look. "Not that I'm heart broken or anything, just giving an example."

"You're right. Can Draco walk?"

"Yes, he can. But his back aches most of the time; he still needs to heal. But I think he's getting better. He's already annoying me," she told him.

"It's Malfoy we're talking about. Even in the most dangerous positions, he doesn't stop. I was telling your family just a while ago, along with Hermione and Fleur, how he was insulting a Death Eater while he was whipping him so another one punched him in the face."

"Still… Yesterday, he was kind of submissive. I think he's just trying to act normal. Can't blame him though; after what he has been through, he has the right to act funny as long as he wants." She poked Harry in the arm playfully. "You can too, you know."

After a while, Harry's eyes seem to be falling once again while Ginny was conversing with him. It seemed hard for him to keep his eyes open and more than once Ginny saw him struggling not to yawn. Ginny knew he was still very exhausted. It was really a miracle that a person in his condition would be awake already; it should have taken him days. Ginny put a hand on his forehead and he covered a yawn that escaped with his uninjured hand.

"You need to rest. I'll check up on you later," Ginny said, helping Harry slide down to his bed and pulling the blanket put over him. She smoothed out the wrinkles as she tucked him in comfortably and took off his glasses, placing them on the table. "When you feel the vase while trying to find your glasses, they're just below it, okay?" Harry nodded in response. "I'm going to check up on my other patients. I'll ask Hermione and Ron to look over you while I'm gone."

She turned to go, but Harry quickly grasped her hand with his quick Seeker instincts. "I'll sleep alone, please don't bother them anymore. I want to be alone for a while anyway." She was about to argue when Harry closed his eyes, looking dizzy. He cut her off. "Also, please check on Draco for me… I owe him."

"I'll check up on him," she promised him and he let her wrist go. "Hermione and Ron will come themselves, whether I tell them to or not, you know that. I'll just tell them to be quiet." She kissed his forehead and he relaxed instantly. "Rest well, Harry."

But Harry was already asleep. She smiled and walked lightly towards the door. She opened it gingerly to find Hermione and Ron sitting on the chairs, having a whispered conversation which they stopped instantly when the door opened. They stood up abruptly.

"Harry's all right?" Ron asked.

"He's fine, but he's still tired. He's sleeping now so make as little noise as you can, please," she told them. She looked at the time. It was almost twelve and she needed to get a move on so that she could give potions or apply them onto her patients. She had been assigned twenty, but it wasn't as tiring as it sounded. Most of them were nice and she loved the little kids she had got to know while patrolling and healing those kids' relatives. Also, she promised Harry that she would check up on Draco and she would, too.

**OxOxOxOxO**

Draco felt hungry. He turned to his bedside table for his wand, Summoned a glass of water and waved his hand for a mental incantation for water. He drank all of it and patted his mouth dry with a tissue. His back wasn't hurting - in fact, it didn't_ feel_ at all. It was numb and he didn't know if he really liked it that way. _Well_, he thought to himself, _better than itchy._

There was a knock on the door and he called out so that the person could open it. Ginny's familiar red head popped in.

"How polite of you to remember to knock, Weasley," he said sarcastically. You didn't need coldness for this one. No, all you needed was sarcasm and she'd get all fired up.

"Oh please. The reason why I didn't knock this morning is because I was hurrying to apply potions on your back. I didn't forget my manners," Ginny informed him, rolling her eyes as she did so. Her voice was nonchalant and there was a serene smile on her face that made her look angelic despite her shot back to Malfoy. At an angle, Draco told himself. Not entirely angelic.

_Yes, force yourself to believe that. _

"If it makes you feel better to tell yourself that, then go ahead." He had his eyebrow raised, but his expression was unreadable. She walked to his back and he sat up so that it wouldn't be difficult to clean his back if necessary. "So did you tell him?"

"Tell him what?" Ginny frowned. She didn't remember Malfoy asking her to tell Harry anything.

"My slave girl," he reminded her. "You love-struck people are so forgetful," he accused, but in a non-accusatory tone.

She laughed. "I thought you were joking!"

"Never mind. I'll tell him myself," he smirked.

She checked his back, rubbing on a spot where there were no wounds but there were potions smeared on. The potion was dry, and she knew that it take a while before she'd have to put more potions on his back.

"Let's see, I finished putting potions on your back around nine, right? So I'll have to put more on your back seven p.m. And next morning I have to wake you up to apply it five o'clock."

"But that's so early!"

"Well, you want to heal, don't you?"

He grumbled but didn't say anything. Ginny smiled. She was still in high spirits for she'd seen Harry now and she was happy that he was okay.

"I'll bring you food," she called over her back and shut the door.

**OxOxOxOxO**

She went down the stairs into the kitchen. They were lucky that many of the Healers and people from the Order and others who were staying here for a while had brought their house-elves with them. Some helped in healing, some in keeping Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place clean, and most prepared food. When Ginny entered the kitchen, she took a step back and emitted a soft squeal of delight when she found herself suddenly surrounded by dozens of house-elves. She was often here because she brought food to her patients and she had learned to make friends with these uncomplicated beings.

"Does Miss Ginny likes cake?" "Does Miss Ginny likes Butterbeer?" So on and so forth; they attacked her with questions, until all she could hear were high-pitched little squealing voices. She told them loudly to stop and there was silence.

"So, what are we having today?" she grinned. The house elves quickly prepared lunch. Roast chicken with mashes and peas with carrots were presented to her quickly, the aroma so wonderful that she had to stop herself from drooling. They had a glass of Butterbeer and another for water. There was a lot of food, ranging from appetisers to desserts. This always happened; she wasn't surprised at all. And she didn't even have to tell them to pack it in a magical basket where everything fit perfectly without ever spilling or touching another: they did it themselves. They handed her a blue basket filled with food. She thanked them and bid them goodbye, carrying the basket in her left hand.

She knocked again on Draco's room and was surprised when he opened it personally. He looked bored but he eyed the picnic basket nevertheless. "I hope you didn't bring sick food," was his only statement.

"You're not sick," she told him.

"Which is why I don't want sick food," he drawled but peered at the basket she brought. She arranged his food on two coffee tables and when she was done, she stood up straight and snapped her fingers so that the candles would glow brighter.

"Enjoy," she said.

"Wait." Malfoy stopped her in her tracks with his call. She shot him a questioning glance. "Eat with me." His eyes bore no coldness, no anger, none of that angst he'd been carrying like a second skin since he got here a few hours back. She reluctantly glanced towards the door and to Malfoy who looked incredible—er, incredibly vulnerable—in his plain green shirt (which was owned by George who had worn it one time for Christmas just to spite Slytherin house, if she wasn't mistaken) and boxers, that her heart instantly softened. "I can't finish this alone, and with your stomach, Weasley, I bet you can eat this whole." He smirked, causing her to turn crimson red. Argh! She wanted to hex Malfoy into oblivion, but refrained from doing so. Just as she was thinking he was sweet.

"Haha, Malfoy. If you're going to ask a person to eat with you, you should remember not to insult them," she snapped, crossing her arms just below her chest. She looked so angry and it infuriated her even more to see that he just smirked. Ginny saw his mouth twitch upwards and her heart thumped so fast inside her ribcage that she mistook it for livid rage. "You just can't stop annoying me, can you?"

"You're right. I… apologise. Please join me in eating this feast." He gestured towards the spread of food put on top of the two joined coffee tables. He said it so formally that she suddenly remembered that he had grown up with a silver spoon on his tongue and a fork stuck up his… "I'm kidding. You look so insecure. Your stomach isn't big, Ginny."

"You're just saying that," she snapped at him, thumping the one-inch heel of her leather loafer on the ground.

"I don't want to eat alone," he confessed. He didn't say anything more and Ginny knew that she wouldn't be getting anymore from him. _He shared enough,_ she thought to herself, so she accepted his apology and sat opposite him, her hands on her lap. Good thing the elves had over packed. There were four pairs of spoons and forks inside the basket and Ginny handed one pair to Malfoy.

"Well what are you waiting for, Ginny? If there's one of us who should be afraid of being poisoned, it should be me, not you. Did you really poison this?" He raised his eyebrow at her.

"Of course I didn't! I wouldn't be sitting opposite you if I did. Besides, the house-elves prepared that," she sniffed, indignant.

"Well then, let's eat." He had impeccable table manners, she soon found out. He didn't slurp when he ate his soup, spooned it away from him and sipped it at the side of his spoon. He made no noise as he ate; there was no sound of his fork and spoon clinking on his plate to be heard. He ate neatly and chewed with his mouth closed. Ginny felt ashamed of herself whenever her spoon or fork clinked on her plate and when a drop dribbled down her chin when she drank.

She would look nervously at Malfoy to see if he would insult her, but he didn't even raise his eyes to hers. He seemed oblivious to the clinks she made or perhaps he just chose to ignore it. The dessert was chocolate mousse with strawberries inside the creamy mousse. She mentally bonked her head for not looking at what she had packed. It was hard to eat this without getting mousse on your teeth.

"It seems as though you are strategising on how to partake in your cake," Draco commented, finally looking at her. Probably he had noticed that she had stopped making clinking noises. She bit her lip, raising her fork and sinking it into the cake, taking a small chunk. Draco immediately seemed to realise the problem. She looked up at him nervously, but he didn't look teasing at all. He just blinked and raised his own fork, took a chunk of his own cake and put it inside his mouth, chewing with his mouth closed and when he was done, he flashed Ginny a toothy smile that didn't reach his eyes. There was neither a smudge of red from the strawberry nor brown from the mousse.

"The trick is to let it slide until it's in the back of your front teeth and you scrape it without using your lips if you can," he shared. Ginny pushed her red locks to the back of her ear and opened her mouth, following Draco's instructions. She pulled a small mirror from her pocket and looked at her teeth. There wasn't a trace of the cake. She looked at Malfoy who was scrutinising her as a teacher would do to his student. She blushed and looked away.

"Thanks for the tip," she said. He shrugged his shoulders, showing his self-confidence. He had poise; it even showed when he was shrugging his shoulders! He was well-bred, but that thought hadn't really crossed her mind. What usually came into her head was that he was so stuck-up. She just couldn't get past it. Or the fact that Harry owed him his life.

"I'm surprised you don't know that trick. I learned it when I was nine," he said, truly astonished.

"From your mum?" she asked, taking another bite.

"No, from my tutor."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "You had a table manners tutor?"

"I had an etiquette teacher," he corrected her. This didn't seem to be strange to him. Maybe all of the Slytherin students had one. Perhaps they even shared tips in the common room when they were particularly bored. Even Crabbe and Goyle might have had one. But she personally thought what they should really have had was a sitter.

"Well, we couldn't afford a tutor," she said, not at all ashamed of growing up not well-to-do. "My father isn't exactly the Minister."

Of course he wasn't. The Minister's job was a far cry from her father's profession. The name of Arthur Weasley would not even cross the minds of those who appointed the Minister. Imagine collecting Muggle stuff presently then suddenly being forced to run the whole of wizarding England. He wouldn't be able to handle it, no matter how kind-hearted he was.

"Can I ask you something, Ginny?" Malfoy said softly.

Ginny nodded her head and when she had swallowed, she spoke. "Sure, Malfoy."

"It's Draco."

"That's not a question."

"Of course it's not Weasley, it's my name. I'm telling you to call me by my name."

"Oh." She blushed. "Okay. What's your question, Draco?" It felt kind of foreign on her tongue but at the same time, it felt right.

"Are you happy?" he asked softly.

_What an odd thing to ask,_ Ginny thought to herself, pondering the question. Draco waited for her answer patiently. His grey eyes had just the tiniest tint of green blue and it reminded her of the sea. Maybe it reflected the colour of the room and the basket she had put onto the table when she had packed up the utensils they have used; she wasn't sure.

"What do you mean happy?" Ginny asked, confused.

"I mean, even though you're not in any means well off," in here he got a dirty look from Ginny and he raised his palms as a signal that he would like to explain, "and that you have many brothers you have to share with and no doubt you get passed many hand-me-downs, you still have the ability to laugh, to smile… to do the things regular people do. And some – most of us—who are not by any means _poor_, aren't able to." When he said 'us', Ginny didn't know who he meant. Did he mean the other Slytherin students or something else? She wasn't sure. But the answer to his question came to her in an instant, as if it was truly natural.

"You don't have to own the world to be happy, Draco." She smiled as she continued, knowing in herself that her answer was heartfelt. "You just have to learn how to love."

**OxOxOxOxO**

**A/N: **First chapter uploaded. J I'm so happy that I have this done! I hope you've read it and will review. I would appreciate constructive criticism for those who are planning to give. I just hope that you won't be so hard. No flames please.

à I know that the houses surrounding Grimmauld Place is a Muggle-inhabited village/city/whatever. It means that Voldemort also destroyed some parts, took some of the houses, just plain out caused a lot of damage.

à I am trying to put an English vibe to this fic. Like using English spelling (i.e. favour, colour, and parlour) and using 'bloke' a lot or chap as they do. I am doing this to put more emphasis in the site or country this fiction is taking place. If there were stuff I had done wrong, please do not hesitate to correct me—I'd appreciate it. And for those who are born or bred or both English, I'd love some tips!

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and its Characters do not belong to me (or I wouldn't be writing in and the plot I've made surrounds the world J.K. Rowling has created. Most of the characters would stick to those she has written or created. Some of the expressions that seem familiar may have been revised to fit this fan fiction or taken from the book to make it look more natural.

à Take a good look at this Disclaimer. If there is nothing to add to it, I won't write it again, so that I'll have a clean chapter.

**Acknowledgements:**

Harry Potter Lexicon-for some of the British terms I used

**Shiiki-**my wonderful beta. She was very thorough and she gave me a lot of good suggestions and uplifting comments. I hope that our work bore fruit!

**What To Expect Next Chapter: **Draco Malfoy leaving the Grimmauld place


	2. Chapter 2

**More Than Anyone**

_I'm gonna love you more than anyone…_

**Chapter 2-What I Want**

"_It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; _

_it__ is less difficult to know that it has begun."_

_Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_

Days passed, and Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were on the road to being completely healed. They could now walk, and they had taken to circling the grounds of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place when they could.

Most of the patients that had stayed weeks before had gone by now, and they left no physical traces in the house, only smiles and "thank you"s for the Healers and the Healer's helpers to remember them by. The house–elves working at Grimmauld Place had diminished somewhat in number, for they, of course, had gone with their masters when they were healed, some of whom with money had given contributions to the Order in gratitude for sheltering them and giving them protection from the evil that still lurked outside the walls of the large manor. The funds had gone into cleaning and repairing the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black and now, after being newly-repaired, it looked tastefully old. Ginny had been tipped handsomely for her work.

Ginny had become very engrossed in her work, firmly believing that the harder she worked, the more she helped, and the faster Grimmauld Place would be cleared out and they could all have their lives back. It was odd that she was eager to return to normal, when she didn't even know what she wanted to pursue as a career. She was torn in between wanting to leave and wanting to stay.

When she wasn't busy attending to her patients, she visited Harry and Draco until they were well again. Harry was the first to be taken out of the Hospital Wing, but his right hand was still bandaged and he was strongly discouraged to use wand magic, so the most he could do was snap his fingers to light the candles in the hall, help in cleaning Grimmauld Place (_He should stop kidding himself,_ Ginny thought wryly, _the most he did was tell a house-elf that it missed a spot, which led to a serious banging of its head and a scolding from Hermione_) and entertain some of the children and, of course, Ginny.

Whenever Harry was incredibly bored, he would knock on Draco's door and visit him. Ginny smiled to herself at the thought of the two getting along when they had spent almost seven years of their life being a severe pain in the neck to each other. Harry would even take Draco for walks. Of course, Draco would look incredibly bored and would seldom talk. The only times she saw Draco have an expression on his face were the times when Ron and Hermione would accompany them, and he'd smirk as he teased the trio. His jokes weren't as offending as before and sometimes, Ron would even laugh while Hermione would roll her eyes, but with a smile on her lips.

Hence, Ginny found all of this rather wonderful for them they should savour the time they had left inside the manor before they were hurled outside. But at the same time, she worried about them regularly. In fact, she would just be dazed in front of Harry and Draco, sometimes looking at one of them till they tapped her on the shoulder to wake her up. _Ginny could understand that feeling of loneliness as she looked at them, for she too did not know what she could do to survive. She even entertained thoughts of being in the clutches of the Dark Lord better than facing the 'real world' as she would refer to it for at least she had survived through that, although barely._ She always worried about Harry… and guiltily, of Draco too.

She shouldn't be guilty, she berated herself. She was looking out for a friend! Imagine being the son of a Death Eater who had died at the hands of his sister-in-law because of his Lord's orders. It was hard to face the world, when the world was against you.

_Harry_, she told herself. She should return her thoughts to Harry! Harry had only one goal in life that was his utmost priority: to kill Voldemort. And now that he had accomplished his mission by perishing Voldemort, what would Harry want to be? He was against the government, although before, he had really wanted to be an Auror. But would people leave him be if he chose to be an Auror? He could also play international Quidditch; he was very good at his game. But would being a professional Quidditch player simply draw more unwanted attention from the public. Also, would the Quidditch Leagues welcome him with open arms?

Deep inside, she knew that she should think about herself first; the two boys could handle things on their own. But still, she just couldn't. She had formed a friendship with Draco, and things were going steadily with Harry. Everything was in its proper place, everything was predictable, and she was in control. Harry made her laugh sometimes, showed her as much affection as he was capable of and it was enough, she convinced herself. It justified her love for him, she thought.

But she couldn't stop thinking about Draco. It was as though he had implanted some sort of ticking bomb inside of her; and when a ticking bomb explodes, you have to choose one of two options: to laugh until you can't breathe or to become so angry you can't form a word right. Draco's smirks that he flashed her way were always so teasing; he looked like a naughty little boy always planning something to annoy the babysitter without really having the intention of making her mad. It always made her uncomfortable because she couldn't look him straight in the eye without blushing. And when he laughed, there was always the feeling that her heart had suddenly lightened and she was happy. _It's just that_, she thought to herself desperately, _it's just that he has been through enough and I just want him to be happy!_

Ginny turned a corridor and knocked on a door. There was no answer. She knocked again, louder this time. There was still no answer. She pressed her ear to the door to try and hear any sounds, but there were none. She frowned. Where could he be? Harry was eating breakfast downstairs with Hermione and Ron. There would be no one to walk with him so early.

Maybe he was still asleep. She checked the knob, and sure enough, it wasn't locked. Draco didn't care to lock it; he knew that only two people would enter his room: Ginny and Harry. And they both always knocked and waited for him to let them in before they walked in. He felt perfectly secure in not locking the door.

But he _did_ lock the door when he wasn't inside.

_I just want to check on him, _Ginny told herself reasonably, so she turned the knob and walked in. She peered from right to left, but no one was inside.

"How peculiar," she whispered to herself, letting herself in to look around. She closed the door gently so that it didn't make a sound. She had her wand out just in case.

"What are you doing here?" someone hissed close to her ear, making her jump and turn around, her wand drawn and ready to shoot curses, making the person back away a long stride. "Bloody hell!" the voice swore.

Ginny blinked and realised it wasn't an intruder. It was Draco. He had probably just emerged from the bathroom. He only had his pants on, since he was applying Healing Potions to his wounds. She knew this because he was holding the round container which had the two potions inside.

"Uhm, sorry, Draco," she stammered. He raised an eyebrow. "I was here to check up on you." He shrugged, raising his arms as he did so. He looked so brooding suddenly that she wondered if there was something wrong. "You need some help with that?"

With a grieved sigh, he sat down on the edge of his bed and handed the container to Ginny. The container had a separator in the middle so that the two potions wouldn't mix. Ginny sat down behind him and started to apply the first potion on his wounds.

"These will scar; you won't be able to make them vanish," she informed him. She knew that he already knew that, but she wanted to remind him. He didn't reply and she found nothing else to say. "There, all done," Ginny said when she had finished.

Draco muttered 'thank you' while Ginny was trying to find the cover of the container. She twisted it closed and headed for the door, not bothering to look at Draco at all. "Come on, Draco, breakfast is ready."

"As much as you want me to strut outside half-naked, it's freezing there and I would like to cover up," Draco said in his usual sarcastic tone. Ginny turned to him and blushed.

"S-sorry, I'll turn around so you can have some privacy," she said, turning her head back. He made a huffing sound that made her turn her head to look at him.

"Don't bother, there's nothing left to show you of my chest that you haven't seen. Unless there's another part of me you want to see." He winked. He WINKED.

"Draco Malfoy! Do you really find it so amusing to annoy me?" she demanded, her hands on her hips once again. He was quickly putting on a top as she continued to nag at him. When she finished (twirling her hands and waving them around and not really paying attention to him at all), he was already dressed and was looking at her in a…

He was wearing corduroy pants and a black long-sleeved turtle-neck. Whatever she was going to add to her statement died on her lips and her lower jaw wouldn't connect with her upper jaw.

Draco smiled softly and walked closer to Ginny. He stretched his hand and gently tapped up Ginny's lower jaw so that her mouth would close. "I'm that handsome, huh?"

"You are so insufferable," she said through gritted teeth and moved to go, but Draco held her upper arms, chuckling as he pulled her towards him. However, because of her insistent twitching, he let go of her... She crashed into his chest with an 'oof' from him and just when she thought they'd fall, he held on to her forearms. It turned out he was sturdier than she'd thought.

"Weasley! Honestly! I was just kidding." Draco sounded a bit irritated, but didn't make a move to remove her from his chest. She moved away on her own and crossed her arms below her chest.

"Well, if you'd stop annoying me, I wouldn't be angry, now, would I?" she said, irritated. It infuriated her more that the only gesture he made was to smirk; he didn't even bother to reply.

Draco looked at the door and put a hand to his stomach as if trying to remember something. "I'm hungry," he said, grabbed his brown camel-hair jacket (_That probably cost a fortune, what a show-off_, Ginny thought) and put it on, then started to open the door, completely ignoring Ginny.

"Hey!" Ginny called. Draco turned to her, as if just suddenly realising that Ginny was there, and left the door open, letting Ginny come out first. She grumbled a bit, but walked silently down the stairs.

"What's for breakfast?" he asked.

She shrugged, pushing away her locks of hair and brushing imaginary flecks of dirt off the scarlet velvet jacket she had thrown over her white shirt. "Let's just see if there's some left. Honestly, if we didn't bicker we'd have caught Harry and the others."

"A chap's got to dress," he said, folding his elbows and raising his hands as he shrugged. "I know that you'd rather have me naked out there, but Gin—" Ginny slapped his arm playfully and they quickly walked down the steps and into the kitchen.

"Oi!" Ron called out to them, waving his arm. Hermione and Harry also waved at them, smiling. They were walking towards the corner leading to the doors of Grimmauld Place. "We're checking the grounds outside!"

Harry jogged up to Ginny. "We'll be back this evening." He smiled fondly at her as she righted his glasses, which had gone askew. Ginny saw, from the corner of her eyes, Draco blow his cheeks as though it would burst with vomit at their show of affection. "See you, then." Harry pecked her cheek and jogged towards Ron and Hermione, who had already opened the large doors, and the doors automatically shut tight when they went through it.

"Bye, honey bunny," Draco drawled in a bored tone.

"I don't call Harry that," she told him.

Draco raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "You didn't know?" he asked her innocently. She didn't buy it for a second. Instead, she started to walk towards one of the longer tables that still had some recognisable food left, Draco on her heels. "That's what Harry and I call each other." He smirked as she laughed.

"If I had been drinking pumpkin juice, I would have accidentally spat it on your expensive clothes," she said sweetly.

Draco looked disgusted as they sat down opposite each other. "Why on my clothes?"

"Accidentally being the keyword."

"That's rather hard to believe," he muttered to himself.

"What was that?" she asked sweetly, her forked hoisted up in a very suggestive manner of pain. He wasn't intimidated at all. His lips twitched into a smirk.

**OxOxOxOxO**

"What are we going to buy again?" Ron asked Harry curiously. There was a smiling playing on Harry's lips and both of his best friends looked at him in content because he was finally at peace with himself. He looked so… free. He had his shoulders back and his hands were in his pockets in a carefree way.

He was in love and it was joy to him that he was free to love without the responsibility that it would be his fault if the person he chose to love got hurt.

"Just a small token," he said mysteriously.

"For whom?"

"I'm guessing Ginny," Hermione laughed. "You two look perfect together," she complimented.

"Yeah, mate," Ron said, putting his arm over his friend's shoulders. "Then we'd be really brothers! You'll be part of the family!" They both grinned lopsidedly.

"And what about me?" Hermione asked, her eyebrow arched. Her bushy hair was getting frizzled in the November cold.

Ron put his other arm over her shoulders and kissed her cheek, making her blush. "Well, when we get married, you'll also be part of the family!" The way Ron had said it, it sounded so natural, like the birds flying up in the air.

"And we'll still be together," Harry added.

Their friendship was going to last forever. This bond with friends was stronger than most had and not something most would find in their lives. Harry was very lucky to have them. Even though he had lost people he loved, like Sirius and Dumbledore, and people who had been taken away from him even before he got to know them and love them better, like his parents, there would always be two people he could depend on. And a girl he'd always love. With that, he was content.

**OxOxOxOxO**

"Stop throwing snow balls!" Ginny giggled, throwing one of her own towards a tall pine tree which Draco was hiding behind.

"Ha! Sore loser!" Draco called out, throwing another one that hit the tree Ginny was using as a shield with a 'thump'.

They had been at it a few minutes after eating lunch. Draco wanted to walk and Ginny wanted some fresh air, so they both thought it would be nice to be out of the stuffy manor that housed many sick people and smelled like melting wax from candles.

Draco had shaped a snow ball while Ginny had looked on curiously. Draco had looked at her slyly and she had instantly started running. He had thrown the ball and almost got her, but she had run inside the forest. He had gone after her and narrowly dodged a snow ball. They had been throwing snow balls ever since.

Draco quickly moved to another tree. Ginny shot a snow ball and it hit his shoulder. He swore and she laughed. "Sore loser!" she taunted.

_So this is how she wants to play,_ he thought to himself, smiling mischievously. He didn't grin in that evil sort of way anymore, unless of course, if it were to manipulate someone he didn't like. He sneaked from tree to tree, quickly moving with cat-like stealth until he was a tree away from Ginny.

Ginny grew suspicious and peeked out, not knowing that her lapse of judgement would result in her getting caught. She was pulled by her knees to the snowy ground, making her emit a squeal of surprise.

Before she knew it, she was pinned to the ground, her hands on either side of her head where Draco held them with his hands and his knees at the sides of her stomach. She giggled at her predicament and Draco shared her mirth.

"Looks like I win," he informed her, his face barely inches away from hers. His skin was so fair and his lips so rosy pink, she didn't know how he pulled it off so nicely. He had no blemishes to speak of on his face, and his eyes seemed to dance with amusement directed at her.

For a moment, they just stayed in that position, then Ginny's face turned red and she turned her face to the side to avoid eye contact with Draco. "All right, you win. Now let me up."

He shook his head and made a tutting sound. "Not so fast. I have to claim my prize first."

Ginny looked at him questioningly, her eyes so expressive, framed by thick dark-red lashes that looked brown. From this point of view, he could see every freckle splashed on her face. There were freckles on her nose and cheeks that looked almost invisible when cast in his head's shadow. He thought they were adorable.

He was nose-to-nose with her. She closed her eyes, her lips parting slightly. He knew it was subconscious. He breathed out through his mouth, warming her face with his breath and lowered his face slightly, closing his eyes and brushing on her lips, closing briefly on her lower lip so quickly it was like a mere wisp of the wind.

She opened her eyes automatically. She was breathing hard and when what he had just done sunk in, Draco quickly pushed himself away, staggering slightly, looking at the ground and panting slightly. Bloody hell. They had made a big mistake.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out without thinking. He didn't mean it, but he hoped he sounded sincere enough. He wasn't sorry he had brushed lips with Ginny. Her lips were so soft; it was small, plump flesh he didn't mind nibbling on. He mentally slapped himself for even thinking of that at a crucial time like this! When Ginny might Avada Kedavra him and send him straight to his maker—whether his maker lived above or below.

Ginny pressed her fingers to her lips, drawing Draco's eyes to them. She nodded her head, dazed. "I-it's all right."

"This won't happen again," he swore.

Ginny shook her head slowly, her breath still ragged. "You shouldn't say that. Because whenever someone says that," she raised her eyes to look at him, her brown eyes full of conflicting emotions, "it always happens again."

**OxOxOxOxO**

"I'm going to that store." Harry pointed to the store boasting of beautiful trinkets and jewellery.

"You're not proposing to my sister are you?" Ron demanded. He was best friends with Harry, but he'd be damned if he let his sister be tied down at the age of seventeen. Hell, she'd be doing it before everyone in the family except for Bill!

Harry laughed at the wild notion of Ron's. He shook his head. "That's absurd, Ron. I'm not ready to be married yet! I don't even have a job!"

Ron huffed. "I'm letting you off the hook easy, Harry, because you're my best mate. Anyway, if you hurt my sister or marry her before I get married then I shall be very cross with you. In fact, I just might hit your nose!"

"You'll hit a chap with glasses?" Harry raised an eyebrow, his green eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Of course not, mate! I'll let you remove them first!"

"How sensible of both of you," Hermione chipping in to the conversation, tired of being left out.

"Yes, you taught us well," Ron said, grinning madly, making Harry laugh and clutch at his stomach.

Hermione shook her head, but she was grinning. She told the boys that she would do a bit of shopping on her own and that she would leave them on their own devices, promising to meet them at the Leaky Cauldron when she is done.

"I'm going to buy myself a supply of Butterbeer. I'm still quite addicted to the stuff," Ron told Harry.

"Okay then. I guess I'll meet you in the Leaky Cauldron too. And Ron…" Ron, who was already walking away, turned to listen to whatever Harry was going to say. Harry smiled tentatively. "I promise I'll do my best not to hurt Ginny in any way."

Ron grinned cheerily and waved goodbye. Harry did the same and went off to the shop to buy Ginny a gift.

**OxOxOxOxO**

"It won't," he swore, "happen again."

Ginny looked away. "Of course, I won't let it happen once more."

Draco eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry that I caused you such an experience," he said, so coldly that Ginny felt as if she had been put into a pentacle and frozen with a command. "I hope it will not cause nightmares when you sleep."

She closed her eyes. Nightmares would be the least of her problems. In fact, she'd welcome them more than seeing his face every time she closed her eyes, and wanting to brush lips with him again. Or even more.

"It's getting colder," she said abruptly. "I'm leaving."

"Are you sure it's the temperature?" he asked snidely. "And are you sure it's not the other way around?"

"Would you please just drop it?" she hissed. Couldn't he see that it was hard for her too? But looking at his face, Ginny saw that he was too riled up suddenly to care.

"Why? Afraid that Potter might hear it?" he taunted.

She whipped herself around to face him, hoping her gaze had burnt him when he took a backward step. "Yes. Because unlike you, I don't make it a point to hurt the people I care for."

"What makes you think I hurt the people I care for?" Draco whispered coldly as she turned her back. If it had been cold moments before, well, it was certainly freezing now. "You don't even know me. Don't be so quick in passing judgement, Weasley."

The way he had said it, it seemed to Ginny as if the past few weeks they had shared were fake memories. They felt non-existent, and the snowball fight and kiss felt as if they had been light years ago… A tear trickled down her cheek and she turned her face to the side where there were no tears, unwilling for him to see a sign of weakness. She didn't want him to see that he had hurt her.

With that, she left, hoping that he felt as rotten as he was acting towards her. She heard him kick the snowy ground and swear 'bloody hell' for some reason.

**OxOxOxOxO**

When Draco kicked the ground, some of the snow flew to his warm face, making him swear.

He glared at Ginny's retreating back. In the back of his mind, a part of him nagged at him to go after her and apologise, but he felt so enraged that he just couldn't muster up the humility to do so.

He had never declared himself a gentleman and felt no responsibility whatsoever to her. No matter how kind and caring she was to him, he chalked it up as being 'her job' to help heal him.

He put his numb hands inside his pockets, hoping in vain that they would warm up a bit inside there. Draco started to walk in the opposite direction to another path that led inside Grimmauld Place, far from Ginny.

His face was stoic, making it impossible for anyone who passed him by to guess what was wrong with him, so they concluded it was just natural for him to be all brooding.

But in his mind, he was thinking angrily.

Oh, it surely wouldn't happen again. He didn't want anything to do with Potter's girl. She was just another speck of dirt on his shoe. And he made it a point to throw away his dirty shoes.

**OxOxOxOxO**

It was around dinner time when Harry, Ron and Hermione got back from where they had gone off to. They waved at Ginny and Draco, who were beside each other, but very far apart, to save them a seat. Ginny nodded distractedly and Draco didn't do anything at all.

"What's up with the ferret?" Ron asked Hermione, elbowing her hard, irritating her.

"How should I know? I was with you all the time!" she snapped.

"What's up with you?" he demanded, irked.

Hermione just rolled her eyes, thinking nothing of it anymore, leaving Ron and Harry to themselves. Ron turned to Harry, who shook his head and shrugged, confused.

"Don't ask me," Harry said.

Harry and Ron shared a room and quickly showered and changed. When they were done, they knocked on Hermione's door, but there was no answer. The door was locked, which meant that if Hermione had been there, she wasn't there now.

Harry sat beside Ginny, who was quietly playing with her food with her fork. She looked deep in thought, and Draco was very quiet. Hermione was already seated when they got there, opposite Draco. Ron sat beside her, but there was a big space between them.

They ate in awkward silence, but Draco and Ginny seemed not to notice anything wrong with their surroundings as they both looked at their food. "Is something wrong?" Harry asked, confused and concerned. Ginny stiffened slightly but relaxed quickly as she told him with a forced small smile that there wasn't. Ginny had been used to acting to get what she wanted, since she had six brothers to teach her. But Harry could still easily identify when Ginny was outright lying.

"Can we talk after dinner?" Harry whispered in her ear.

"What for, Harry?" she asked him, a gentle questioning look readable in her eyes.

"I'll tell you after dinner," he said firmly and Ginny didn't prod like she usually did, which really did worry Harry.

**OxOxOxOxO**

Hermione's eyes darted from Ginny to Draco and then to Harry. There was something up with Draco and Ginny, her gut feeling told her so, and Harry was clueless. She looked at Ron, who seemed oblivious to everything around him and just kept on stuffing his face with food like a starved boy.

From Draco's gestures, it was easy to observe that he was agitated. His long, tapered fingers constantly tapped the table as he speared his carrot over and over again, never once bringing it to his lips. She was familiar with the hand-tapping gesture. She always observed it from her parents' patients.

Her parents were dentists and sometimes, she would visit them in the clinic and just watch them work. People of all ages would sit there in the dentist chair, their gazes darting anxiously from one corner to another and their fingers tapping the arms of the chair until her mum or her dad would step on the lever and lift the patient up and they'd clutch on the chair's arm as if for dear life.

Why Draco was acting this way, she didn't know. After spending some weeks with him, she realised he wasn't much of a bad person at all. It was just that… his humour put her out because she wasn't used to his jokes. They lived in different circles of society and one's polite jokes could be rude for another.

It wasn't long before Draco was able to give them snippets of information about himself. Something odd here and there: for instance, he was very touchy about what kind of utensils to use for what. He frowned at Ginny whenever she used the soup spoon for eating anything other than soup and sneered at Ron when he used his fingers to eat a slice of pizza.

But it was Ginny who really made him open up. Hermione didn't know what they shared and talked about when they had their conversations, but she knew it got to Draco and put him in better moods than he was known for back in Hogwarts.

_Maybe I should get a conversation going, _she thought to herself and propped her hands on the table to brace herself. No one seemed to have noticed that she had moved at all, for no one raised their head. She raised her chin, ignoring it.

"You're name's Latin; do you know how to speak in Latin, Malfoy?" _Stupid question_, she readily admitted, but it was the first one she dared try.

Because she was never one to be the first to speak to Draco Malfoy (it almost always began with him teasing her), Draco looked at her with an eyebrow raised as though her hair had suddenly got larger and transformed into a gigantic sponge on her head – the expression wasn't necessarily indicating that he was surprised by her question; more of taken-aback at the sudden start of a conversation.

Ron momentarily looked up from his food and chewed, looking at her funnily and asked with concern, "Are you all right, 'Mione?" He waited for her to nod before going back to his food. Even Ginny, who looked so out of it, shot her a questioning glance.

It was a long time before Draco replied, making Hermione think he had decided to ignore her and probably, he almost did. "Sort of. I know some words I can string into sentences."

She inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, hoping after this insane topic, she could ask what was bothering him. "Can you give an example?"

He seemed to be thinking before he spoke, "Aio, quantitas magna frumentorum est."

"Which means?"

"Yes, that is a very large amount of corn," Draco translated with a straight face.

Harry, who was drinking at the time, almost spat out his drink. Ron looked up again, this time looking straight at Malfoy. He gave the impression of a person about to shed light on the matter, which was why it disappointed them all when all he said was, "We don't need a lot of corn."

"Nice deduction, Weasley, perhaps next time you can tell me that Snape tie-dyes his underwear in shades of green," Draco drawled in a bored tone.

Hermione looked impatiently at Ron, who was about to retort, then back again to Draco. "Anything else?" she asked quickly to cut Ron off. Ron looked indignant but after a quickly flash of pleading from Hermione, grudgingly returned to his food.

Draco finally brought his fork to his mouth and chewed slowly. He was like every other aristocrat, taught how to chew so discreetly, you wouldn't notice his mouth moving if you didn't observe him for a while. "De inimico non loquaris sed cogites."

"And what—"

"Don't wish ill for your enemy; plan it." He cut Hermione off, translating it.

"That one's good," Harry commented, using his fork and his spoon to cut the meat in half.

Draco turned to him with a cold look on his passive face, eyebrow raised again. "You think so? My father taught me that one."

Ron coughed. Ginny quickly glanced with concern at Draco then stared back at her plate. Harry, who was about to pop the meat dipped in mashed potatoes in his mouth, looked so guilty and mumbled an apology. All through this, Hermione was a spectator, feeling helpless that she couldn't do anything to make whatever was damaged better.

The conversation had never really started when it already stopped.

**OxOxOxOxO**

They were on the balcony. Ginny hugged herself to keep warm. Harry saw how uncomfortable she was in the cold and put his cloak over her shoulders.

"Thanks," Ginny said gratefully. "So what did you want to talk about?"

Harry looked over the balcony to the field of green grass and tall trees with rosebushes and several other flowers decoratively placed in different places. "First, I want to know if you're all right."

Ginny nodded, a faraway look on her face. "I am," she whispered softly.

Harry couldn't accept this, but hoped fervently that what he was going to give Ginny would make her feel better. He searched his pocket for the gift and when he produced it, he showed it to Ginny. "I got you a gift," he smiled shyly.

Ginny looked at it, startled. Her cheeks became red suddenly and there was a smile she tried hard to conceal. "Oh, Harry! What for?"

He shrugged. "A token." He opened the small velvet box and she drew her breath when she saw it. The necklace was real silver that shone in the moonlight and the pendant was also silver, but encrusted with Swarovski crystals in form of a heart. She didn't know what to say. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She shook her head in disbelief. She had never been given anything so beautiful in her life! Her family were not well-to-do, and her idea of gifts was chocolate frogs and prank toys and hand-knitted sweaters. She never dreamed of receiving something so grand like a necklace like this! Well, not before her engagement or wedding ring, of course.

Something flashed through her brain: a flashback of what had transpired in the woods just hours ago, and she guiltily looked away from the precious gift.

Harry frowned, misinterpreting her suddenly uneasiness for disdain of his gift. "Don't you like it?" he asked worriedly. When he had seen it on the glass shelf, shimmering and beautiful, he had known he had to buy it for Ginny. He wouldn't forgive himself if he didn't. He had spent a lot of money for it, but it was well worth it if it could make Ginny happy.

"I love it," she gasped. But a depressed expression came upon her face and etched itself onto it. "But I can't take it."

"Why not?" Harry wanted to know.

"Because," she sighed, "it costs too much, Harry. I've never imagined being given a gift so grand in my life!" she exclaimed. She ran her fingers over the balcony railing gently. She couldn't say that after what had happened in the forest, the last thing she wanted to get from Harry was wonderful gift.

"I bought it for you! Take it." He was handing it to her, growing exasperated when Ginny continually refused. What was her problem? "The money, I know it's for my future and all, but I have told myself a long time ago that I will not depend on the money my parents had! I will make something of myself _by_ myself!"

"Harry, I'm really sorry," Ginny started. "You spent so much for it. You might not have money to spend for yourself!" She looked away. "I'm here for you, Harry, but you know I'm not well-to-do. I can't support you. You have to rely on your resources to survive. You shouldn't use your money for the future on gifts for me."

There was a long silence. Ginny didn't know what to do. Harry's face suddenly closed and there wasn't any emotion readable in his face. All of a sudden, he was stony and unreachable, just as he had been years before. It made Ginny's heart ache.

"Before I discovered Hogwarts," he gulped, turning to face the railing and resting his palms there, putting his weight on his arms. The necklace was between his hands and he paid it no heed. He was in a faraway place, somewhere Ginny couldn't quite reach him. "I never had any money of my own. My only relatives—the Dursleys are not the most charitable kind of people. My clothes were all old, those which couldn't fit my cousin Dudley anymore. I was lucky if I got something useful when I celebrated birthdays." At this, he smiled bitterly, daring to take a peek at Ginny, who stood still, frozen, her eyes so sympathetic and glistening, Harry thought it was because of the night, that it was playing tricks on her eyes. "Who am I kidding? The most I got was a pair of very large socks I could probably fit my whole body inside.

"I slept inside a cupboard for ten years of my life," he sighed. "I envied those people who would tell me how wonderful _their_ relatives were. I used to think that maybe my parents had done something… something so bad to the Dursleys that made them hate me… it destroyed me to know a few years after that the only reason they hated me was because of what my parents were: magic-capable people. They were _different_, which meant that _I_ was _different_. They resented me for it. And every year, I would think to myself, when I grew up, I wouldn't depend on anybody's money. I wouldn't have to wait for 'works of charity' from Dudley to have clothes. I would make my own money and they'd see… they'd see I'm not worthless after all."

She then knew that she had it way easier than he had, because even though they were poor, she was loved and what Harry had been through was worse than anything she ever had. In retrospect, he was poorer than she was.

Ginny was crying now; her hands came up to cover he face so that Harry wouldn't see her crying. His glasses reflected the light so she was unable to see his eyes. She slowly made her way closer to him, and embraced him tightly from behind, letting her tears shake her whole frame. As much as she wanted to do something, she was powerless. She couldn't do anything. She couldn't make all this go away and it crushed her to realise that all she could do was comfort him. Make him feel that those were just nightmares and that now, now finally everything was all right.

She knew then that she couldn't do anything to hurt this boy: this boy who had given up very much but had been given very little in return. She didn't want him to feel more anguish than he already had. It wouldn't be fair to him… and if she had to give up some things to make him happy, then she would. Because he deserved more than what he had been given…

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she said in between sobs. He was slowly turning to face her, to comfort her. He felt bad because he had made her cry. He held her head to his chest, letting it rest there, his other hand stroking her soothingly. "I-I'll accept your gift."

"I'm sorry I'm imposing myself on you. I just thought that," he said helplessly, "I just thought that it would make you happy."

"It does." She gave him a watery smile. "Thank you so much, Harry."

"I love you, Ginny," he said softly and kissed the crown of her head.

She closed her eyes tight, pushing away the pictures in her head of Draco. She couldn't do this to Harry. She couldn't bring herself to hurt him. And, she admitted to herself, she was afraid of being hurt too…

She buried her face closer to his chest, eyes closed tight as she muttered, "I love you too, Harry."

**OxOxOxOxO**

The day when Harry and Draco were completely healed had finally come. Harry had a choice to stay; in fact, it was his house. Draco, of course, would be welcome to stay, but he opted not to.

"I have a mother who needs me," he told Harry.

"Well, I owe you my life, Draco," Harry reminded him. "If ever you need the favour or want something of mine to repay it, you can ask for it and it's yours."

"Hardly," Draco scoffed. "I can't think of anything that I can get from you, Potter, which I can't get on my own."

Harry smiled a bit. "It's Harry."

"Nah, I prefer Potter to Harry," Draco smirked. Harry knew this was so. It wasn't because Draco had a grudge he kept for Harry until now. It was sort of a remembrance of who he had been before this war and who he had become after. He was a man of his own making, not a mould of his parents, nor of Voldemort's. He was who he was because it was who he chose to be.

"Suit yourself, mate. You're always welcome here at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place," Harry said warmly.

"And you're always welcome to crash at Malfoy Manor if you want to get away from this stuffy place and go to an even stuffier place. At least we have more house-elves to spare."

"Bye, mate," Harry said, laughing, and closed the door of Draco's room behind him as he went. Draco sighed and continued his packing.

**OxOxOxOxO**

When he was done, he walked around Grimmauld Place until he was sure that what it looked like and what it had served for him would always be in his memory. He came upon a hall he remembered clearly and found himself face-to-face with a door to a room.

He drew his fist up to knock, but he was hesitant to do so. Was she inside? What would she say if she found him there? They hadn't talked after the incident in the forest and he wasn't really up to talking and explaining his actions. There wasn't anything to explain, really. He was curious about what it felt like to brush lips with her, to know what it felt like to be in such close proximity with the flame-haired vixen he grudgingly admitted he admired.

But before he had summoned the courage to knock, a voice called out to him from behind.

"Draco," it said, not a question but a statement. He turned around to see the freckled, nervous, smiling face of the person he had actually come to see.

"Hullo, Ginny." He nodded in acknowledgement, clutching his baggage tighter. His mother had sent him clothes when he stayed at Grimmauld Place. She hadn't been able to visit him, for she was busy with keeping Malfoy Manor whole while the Ministry tried its best to pry into it. Naturally, most of the people who had been sent were paid handsomely to not complete their jobs. But Narcissa saw to it that there were few reminders left of their dark past. His mother was ready to move on, as well as he. She said that nothing really mattered to her more than him.

Ginny looked tentatively at the ground before peeking up at him through her thick lashes. "So you're leaving, then?" She knew it was so, but she just had to hear it for herself before she knew it was real.

He nodded. "Yes."

"And you came to say goodbye?"

"Right."

"Well then." She smiled as best as she could and came closer to him so that they were only inches apart. "Goodbye, Draco."

"Goodbye, Ginny." He said it in a way that made it sound as if it was hard for him to say it.

"We'll see each other again, won't we?" Her eyes were hopeful, and Draco dared hope that it pleasured her to be in his company.

"It _is_ hard to stay away from such a handsome fellow like myself," he smirked and she rolled her eyes, but laughed nonetheless.

"Yes, I shall miss your irksome presence," she teased.

"And I will surely miss your chatty ways," he shot back.

"Well, someone has to talk," she defended, unconsciously pouting.

"Face it: you can't stand it when you can't hear my voice. It sends chills up and down your spine whenever you hear me speak." He had blurted it accidentally. It was a joke, of course. But she looked so taken aback that he thought otherwise.

Her blush was a tell-tale to what she was thinking, and she looked away stubbornly. "Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy. The only reason keeping me from strangling you is because you were wounded."

"Goes with the virtue and the general rule that you don't hit a chap with glasses," he nodded wisely.

Her mouth twitched upwards. "Quite right, but I also remember you punching Harry in the face when you just started out in the Order."

"We were young, and he looked stupid. Still does, if you ask me," he told her, ignoring her frown. But then she smiled at him in that way of hers and he instantly forgot what they were talking about. It was long before he could think of anything else to say.

"Well then," he said finally. "It's best I get going. Malfoy Manor is far and the journey is long."

"Why don't you just Apparate?" she frowned.

"You cannot Apparate out of Grimmauld Place; you can only Apparate within its grounds to another part of its holdings. You also can't Apparate to Malfoy Manor or to our village. You can Apparate out, but not in."

"You own a village?"

"I guess it goes with the Manor. Like a bonus deal of some sort."

"Well, okay then." She shrugged. "But don't I get a hug before you leave?" she asked.

"Of course you do," Draco said, sweeping her off her feet and safe into his arms. She felt warm and soft, her figure moulding itself with his until it felt as though they were one person, not two individuals. It felt so right to hold her in his arms. He wanted to protect her, wanted to be with her always. He could imagine waking up beside her with a warm smile on his lips and the thought that he'd never have another if she was the only person he was allowed to love.

"Take care of yourself, Weasley," Draco murmured into her hair.

"Always play nice, Malfoy."

"Ah, such a difficult thing to ask from the likes of me."

"I'm quite sure you can manage."

"Hopefully not."

That made Ginny laugh. Draco couldn't take his eyes off her. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She was unique, and he always asked himself why he hadn't taken more notice of her back in Hogwarts. He knew the answer to that question, but he refused to look back once again.

There would always be qualities and attitudes that would never be erased in Draco Malfoy, for these qualities and attitudes were what made him unique, and who he was. No matter how insufferable he was, or cocky most of the time, he couldn't imagine himself being anything else, and frankly, he didn't want to be anything other than what he had grown accustomed to being.

But now he had a loyalty to the Order. He now had a clear view of what is right and what is wrong and he knew better now than to play with fire so as not to be burned. He didn't want to have a master any longer. He would live his life and make actions as he pleased.

"Please don't look at me like that," Ginny suddenly said, obviously catching him in the act.

**OxOxOxOxO **

"Like what?" He feigned innocence, putting his hands inside his pockets.

Ginny looked at him for a while. There was something in her eyes that suggested a longing to speak, but she did not utter a word for a long time. When she did speak, she offered her hand for a handshake.

"We should part not as enemies, but as friends."

"We were never enemies," Draco pointed out, hands still in his pockets. He realized this was true; even in school, when their families were at odds, he had never actually thought of her as 'the enemy'.

"True, but it seemed a nice thing to say."

Draco's lips quirked up at the side, but not fully into a smirk. "If you say so." He took his hand out and shook her hand firmly.

His hands were soft and smooth, very unlike hers or Harry's. They were not even calloused by severe Quidditch training, or if they had been, they must have been smoothed out from his palms. They were hands that truly belonged to the upper crust world. A socialite's hand that had never had to experience manual labour, never experienced hardship to survive, for everything was given to them. He was not an abused child as some might have thought. It was the way he had been brought up that made him the way he was. His morals were pounded into his brain, and probably into his heart, since birth.

"You can let go of my hand now, Ginny." He said it the way a teacher would persuade a petulant child to go back inside a classroom: gentle, with a hint of amusement.

She quickly pulled her arm away, but she was still clutching at his hand; his eyebrow arched at her puzzling behaviour. She let go as fast as she could, burning the colour of ripe tomato. "Ah, oh, sorry," she mumbled, looking at the ground.

Draco patted her bowed head and started walking away, towards the stairs. She looked up and as if he saw or felt her look, he raised his hand and saluted her casually with two fingers, not looking back.

It made her smile. She hoped that he'd finally find the solace he deserved outside of this makeshift sanctuary. She prayed fervently to whatever gods she knew to protect him always and not let much harm happen to him.

When she could no longer see his lean, slender figure, she sighed and muttered an incantation to open her door. She turned the knob, but didn't go inside. She rested her head for a while against the door, her hand pulling it to balance her, head lowered as she put a hand inches away from her face. She was surprised to feel drops of water splatter into her open palm. She was crying. How peculiar, because she didn't know what she was crying for. It was not as if she loved Draco or anything…

And yet, seeing him walk away and hearing him say goodbye was heart-wrenching for her. She felt so hurt, she couldn't understand it, much less explain it. But she knew that this couldn't go on. Whatever it was that she felt for him, it couldn't grow, it couldn't stay long in her heart. There was no hope for it, no future. It would only hurt more and more as time grew…

Hurt her so much that in turn, it would hurt other people too…

Particularly Harry.

**OxOxOxOxO**

**A/N: **I cut actually this chapter into two since it's become incredibly long. The long chapters might just bore you, readers. But then, it'll buy me enough time to write more.

**Acknowledgements: **

To Shiiki, my ever patient beta.


	3. Chapter 3

**More Than Anyone**

_I'm Gonna Love You More Than Anyone…_

**Chapter 3-A Chance Again**

_"And I'm haunted_

_By the lives that I have loved_

_And actions I have hated._

_And I, I'm haunted_

_By the promises I made_

_And others I have broken."_

_Poe, "Haunted"_

"Draco," a female voice cooed seductively, thin arms encircling a certain light-haired man's neck.

"What is it you want, Amanda?" Draco said, almost tiredly. He was looking over some papers on his desk and felt very exhausted. It was already around midnight and he had yet to finish reading the documents about a deal he needed to close.

"Nothing you can't give, Draco," the girl purred again in his ear, not achieving her desired effect. Draco tilted his head irritably as the girl breathed in his ear.

"Not right now, I'm not done yet," he told her coldly. She didn't seem to have got the message and just tightened her hold on his neck, but not to the point of strangling him. There was still much left to be done, re-checking the legal papers, checking if the contracts were still new so that if they were not, he could renew them, and he was not even half done with them.

Amanda grumbled dramatically, rolling her eyes as he worked. Draco didn't particularly care if he upset her. She was only one of his flings, women he dated for public purposes only.

Four years after the war, he had become the big boss in his own corporation. Malfoy Inc. was an ancestral business started generations ago by Victorio Malfoy. It had got larger and larger, and now, they were incredibly filthy rich.

Of course, he had not been easily accepted by his employees, for he was too young to manage the business, but he quickly showed them that he was deserving of his job.

A part of his job was to act as if he were enjoying it. That he was in the top of his game and that he had everything anyone in his place would want – especially a beautiful girlfriend.

Amanda fit the bill quite completely. She was well-known with the upper crust society and the only smudge she had on her record was when she had disappeared for a year just two years ago. There were speculations and rumours as to what she had done with her long absence, and one of them was true. She had got pregnant and given birth.

Draco was a person who made sure that if he did something or committed himself to something, he was sure of what he was getting himself into. When he found this out from his private investigator, he convinced himself that the only way to persuade her completely to accept his terms was to use this advantage.

He had promised that as long as she was with him, he'd take care that the child was fed and taken care of. He had also sworn that no one would know of her secret from him and that she'd be happy if she were to be with him. She had complied, and had done what she had been told.

She was free to ask for money, but she never did. Instead, she asked for incredibly expensive jewellery. They were followed everywhere by reporters, trying to see what they had bought latest, making sure to report how generous Draco was to his girlfriend.

But Draco knew that she sold most of the jewellery he'd given her, for he never saw them again. It was all right with Draco how she used his gifts to sustain her lifestyle and her child. Just as long as it didn't make both of them look bad. (And in this aspect, he found out that she was really good at what she did.)

Amanda was speaking again, but Draco turned a deaf ear to her. He was trying to concentrate on all of his paperwork. Just looking at it annoyed him. It was hard enough to go through all of this, much less listen to his girlfriend blab on about something simultaneously.

He shouldn't even be the one doing any of this. What he basically was supposed to do was to direct his assistants rather than get down and dirty with the paperwork. His job was getting one of his five assistants to tell him the summary of what the paper contained, and if the assistant gave even an ounce of doubt about what he/she had said, then he'd read some lines on his own and then sign it. But alas, he had gained a small amount of compassion for his workers—one thing he had long ago promised himself he was never going to gain—in the span of four years away from that asylum-like house Harry Potter now called 'home', and had let them go off to mind their affairs.

He still didn't understand Harry Potter, with his jet-black hair always so messed up it made impeccable Draco cringe. Harry would suddenly Apparate into his office to chat or ask something he knew was of Draco's expertise, and would be gone after a while. (He had never severed his bonds with Draco even when the saviour of the wizarding world had gone back to Hogwarts to finish his studies so that he could become an Auror.)

In fact, his debt of life as he knew it just got even bigger when they started their real life outside Grimmauld Place.

Harry had almost been beheaded by an extremely stinky troll and luckily for him, Draco had saved him. Draco didn't even ask how it had happened, nor did he question his saving of the saviour's life once again. He had just done it - just as Harry had saved the world like a global superman.

In return, Harry didn't ask just why Draco had also been there to save him. Draco couldn't quite summon the exuberance of telling Harry that the particular troll had once served the Malfoy Family (it was before Draco's time, respectively) and Draco had just been there to give the troll a few Galleons the Malfoys had yet to pay him. By _few_ he meant, _of course,_ a few hundred Galleons. Telling Harry that troll was a servant of his family was just not done, even though it was not in any way Draco's fault.

So Potter had repeated what he'd said, '_Take another item of much importance to me or anything that would repay my large debt to you and it shall be given_.' Draco had yet to think of anything that would appease him, or truthfully, anything that he couldn't get on his own, so he left the debt standing. _In time_, he thought to himself, unconsciously very conniving Malfoy-ish.

"You shouldn't be the one doing that," Amanda whined, voicing Draco's reaction at seeing all the paperwork. "Tell one of your secretaries to do it for you." She waved a hand dismissively, kissing Draco's temple. Draco sighed, tired and exasperated.

"Yes, they should, but not today," he told her shortly. Maxim's wife had given birth just a week before and he hadn't even asked for a day off, saying that it was convenient his child was born on a Saturday. But the man was desperate to help his wife in taking care of their child just for today for the nanny was late and would arrive the following day, and Draco had given in.

Becky's mother's death had affected her so; she looked so grieved and out of it that Draco had taken one look at her, cringed, and told her she could go home.

He had caught Samantha snogging with the fifth floor's janitor on the rickety stairway practically no one used (though he did, since he thought he could get exercise from climbing it, but instead, got more of a disgusting eyeful of the janitor) and had quickly fired both.

So okay, he hadn't gained _much_ compassion. But he was sure that it wasn't gained quickly. It took time, and someone like Draco who was considered bad to the bone (and even _he_ had considered himself that when Pansy had said it seductively in his ear their fourth year inside the Hogwarts Express compartment—which did nothing but inflate Draco's ego) would take even more time than most should have.

Still, he knew he was right. It was very disturbing and, and anyway, he still had all ninety janitors to clean his forty-floor building – and that particular rickety stairway spotlessly cleaned to be assured that all 'marks' of his former assistant and janitor were wiped clean.

The other two, he had told them to just go for the day since he was feeling quite generous. But not before telling them to get him a new assistant quickly, and in a matter of two hours, they had got a Hogwarts graduate student. Their job done, they had taken their leave.

In short, Draco really hadn't known what he was in for when they had left even before lunch break. Work had piled up quicker than he thought it was possible and he had been stuck inside his office ever since, grumbling for tea and scones as he worked. Then Amanda had come just a few minutes earlier, which had done nothing to alleviate his annoyance. In fact, she even added to his growing irritation.

"So, Draco, you haven't let me answer yet what I want you to give," she reminded him as sweetly as a Veela could—if she were one.

"Answer, then," he replied tersely.

"I want a certain piece of jewellery," she said slowly, a Spanish tinge to her accent. This was Amanda Calisto's forte. Asking for anything she wants and getting it quickly and never denied _completely_. Sure, sometimes she got negative answers, but she could swiftly turn the tide to her favour.

"What piece?"

"The one your mother was wearing around her neck to the opera…" she said delicately, thinking that getting cosier with Draco would make him say yes.

He instantly stiffened, but didn't face her.

"Do you know what you're asking for?" The tone was cold, laced with menace but she was used to his coldness and wasn't able to read the menace that was laced with it.

"It's nice," she said, looking at her long, crimson-coloured polished nails.

"If it's my mother's jewellery, it's more than you could possibly pay even if you prostituted yourself for forty more years," he said cuttingly.

Amanda quickly drew away, cut by his sharp words that rang true in her head. "W-what did you say?" she whispered shakily, unable to comprehend. Draco had an inkling that what she felt inside that room was what one would feel seeing the sky darken as grey clouds cover the sun's light and bolts of lightning strike. She felt fear. She wanted to run, but stayed glued to her place, selfishness, greed and pride holding her feet captive to the ground.

He knew because he could see a part of him, of every single person who thrived in the upper crust, in her right now, when they are rattled and taken out of their territory.

"We both know what you are, whom you have sold yourself to. You can't play pretend with me," he said darkly, not bothering to stand up. If he stood up, he might strangle the girl to death, and he didn't want his pictures plastered on the walls and called 'mass-murdering Malfoy'. It wouldn't go with the image that the public now viewed him.

Four months ago, his heroic deed of saving Harry Potter, who killed Voldemort, had been very much publicised with Harry Potter finally winning completely against the Dark Lord.

When there was a picture of Harry Potter anywhere, it was automatically pasted side by side with Draco's. So on and so forth. The public ate up his good boy-bad boy portrait. He couldn't understand it, since there was nothing he thought of boasting, but posed when cameras clicked nonetheless.

He was always on magazines, mostly on women-oriented ones. The women seemed to adore him, and well, he adored women in general. Because of his great influence, his private life was very much hands-off to everyone but to his closest friends.

Draco Malfoy liked his life now, so he wasn't going to do anything to mess it up _yet_. But he never took anyone saying anything or doing anything rude towards his mother. Narcissa Malfoy was on Draco's highest pedestal and could not be soiled by anyone. She was the perfect, most loving mother, he knew it, and would do anything to protect her.

Amanda looked as though she had just been slapped and pushed up a wall—and not the way she wanted. "How-dare-you!" she gritted out, hands balling and clenching into fists at her sides. She was within slapping distance of Draco as she talked. "You've no right to tell me that! And when have I ever asked for money? Some jewellery, fine! You have plenty of money for buying me trinkets to spare! And it's not as if you haven't used me too!" She glared at him challengingly. He peered at her apathetically. "Besides, I'm asking for it so that you won't have to spend a Sickle," she suddenly said, expression toning down, as if she was ready to forgive Draco if he just asked.

Draco's eyes suddenly gleamed dangerously and she took a step back in trepidation. He stood up slowly, and started to walk. Every step he took forward, she took a step back until she found herself inches away from his door.

"I really don't understand what the expression 'how dare you' means. Do you? I don't even believe it's grammatically correct, but it's accepted because it's been a long-time expression whenever people are riled up." He was talking nonsense, he knew it. It helped take out some of the anger that he felt, or else he might melt the Spanish woman in front of him only with his mind.

He was, of course, undoubtedly a wizard. Magic was in his blood, and if Harry Potter could make his aunt bloat, then he could melt his girlfriend. "But now, I'm too angry to think straight, Amanda. And I suggest you leave. Don't even try any of your tricks on me; we know what'll happen if anything bad reaches the paper," he said, turning away from the woman and sitting back on his chair. Amanda looked as though she was about to argue, but thought better of it and clamped her mouth shut and took her leave.

This discussion wasn't worth the money loss and humiliation she would get if everyone knew of what Draco had found out about her. She was hurrying down the elevator and was too angry to even try and flirt with the beautiful black-haired man who was inside the elevator, who strode off towards Draco Malfoy's office.

**OxOxOxOxO**

Someone knocked at Draco's door, but he didn't bother stand up. He was busy signing some business deals to look up. The door opened by itself, signalling that whoever had entered had let him- or herself in.

"I told you to take your leave," Draco said curtly.

"I'm not your girlfriend, Draco," a deep, masculine voice said, making Draco look up in recognition. He leaned his back onto the back of his big 'throne'.

"Ah, Blaise, you saw her leave?" he asked and Blaise nodded in affirmation. "What brings you here at such a late hour?"

"A problem, of course," the man said. Truly, Blaise was striking in the most elegant way. He was darkly handsome, with hair so dark and eyes Slytherin-green (unlike Harry's) with a dark gold complexion only the rich could acquire and no amount of real self-sun-tanning could do. He was the dark to Draco's light. They were both striking in their own ways, and people admired them for their beauty. Most had thought they were lovers, for what or who would be the woman who could match their beauty? They were refined and elegant, cunning and vigilant.

Maybe these were the reasons why they got along together. They were close friends and nothing could severe their bond - much like the bond of Draco and Harry.

"State the problem," Draco ordered softly, closing his eyes and massaging his temples.

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes just won't merge with us," Blaise said, straight-to-the-point.

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, which was owned by Fred and George Weasley, had slowly grown into a burgeoning chain of joke shops stretching from the Leaky Cauldron to Hogsmeade and to other wizarding cities as well. And investing in it, Draco thought, would be extremely wise.

"Why is that?" Draco frowned. He hadn't expected much resistance from Fred and George. Then again, it wasn't _them_ Draco had saved. But as far as he knew, they were at peace with each other.

"Weasley doesn't want to make abrupt decisions," he explained, cold disdain heavily on his tone. "She didn't want to make decisions she might regret."

That caught his attention. What? "Well, you're obviously not talking to the owners. Fred and George Weasley are _he_'s – or they seemed to be, as I remember, and they are the owners. Who were you talking to, anyway?"

"They're in Romania," Blaise drawled in reply, his tone and expression suggesting it would be a bore to try and get a hold on them in Romania. It would never cross his mind to write a note and send it via Owl Post. No one made deals like that. It was not unheard of, but it would be unsafe. "We had to talk to their representative."

Draco's patience was growing thin. First it was the fight with Amanda, and then this problem with the merging of enterprises. What was wrong with these people?

"Who is this bother?" he asked Blaise once again, the urge to just _Avada Kedavra_ that person growing.

"Their sister - I think her name is Virginia Weasley." Blaise shrugged carelessly.

"Ginevra Weasley," Draco automatically corrected, and then realisation dawned on him.

**OxOxOxOxO**

"What? I can't hear you properly." Ginny ran her hand over her face, irritated. The twins were taking turns talking to her through the fireplace. Their heads were floating on the blue fire, distracting some of the WWW employees because of their loud voices.

"George said—" Fred started to say but George quickly cut in.

"No, that was you, Fred," George cut in rather snappishly, correcting him.

"Oh, right. Ginny." Fred looked at her seriously. It made her uneasy to see such a serious expression on this particular brother of hers. Even George was inclined to more straight faces than Fred was. "There will be mergers trying to bug you while we're here with Charlie. What we're trying to say is—"

"Whatever you do, _don't_ merge with them _yet_," George finished for him, pushing his twin out of the way so that he was staring deep into bright brown eyes. Ginny had always envied her twin brothers' eyes because she loved the colour.

"Wait for us to return," Fred piped up, barely visible from George's back.

"Which will be?" Ginny inquired, her arms crossed.

"Three weeks, the latest," they chorused. Fred was now the twin visible while George could be heard cursing at the noise of a dragon.

"Remember that, Ginny. We don't want to be hasty in making decisions," Fred warned her. She nodded in agreement.

"I wouldn't want to make a decision for both of you either. I might make one which is unfavourable to you both," she answered. Fred looked incredulous and shook his head, waving his hand dismissively.

"Nah, we trust you, Gin. If you're to make a decision, it would be a sensible one," Fred said, flashing his winning smile that usually made Angelina roll her eyes at her fiancé but blush all the same when he used it on her.

"Still," she said stubbornly, looking a bit distracted because of the shouts of one of their employees: 'We're out of bugger-flavoured cereals!'

Fred looked towards his back; inquiring something to George she wasn't able to catch. "Now? Aw, bugger," he said, turning to face Ginny again. "Listen, Ginny, not that we don't trust you or anything, but be careful with our shops. WWW is our baby," he said, almost looking pained at being torn away from his company.

That made her laugh. "Yes, yes. I'll be sure to take good care of it," she promised. "No, hurry off and enjoy your vacation," she said, grinning. Fred saluted and George waved. They both disappeared and the fire turned back to its normal shade.

The knocks after their meeting were numerous. There would be problems on some short-handed stocks and she'd help locate some more. They were earning far better than what they'd anticipated and it made Ginny grin in glee. That meant more pay. At least if the twins weren't thinking of another thing to invent when they got here and needing their hard-earned money to fund a new project.

Now they were dubbed _The_ Twins. And pranksters (kids everywhere, mostly) said their names as if they were saints to be worshipped. They never ceased to amaze her with their endless creativity. Ideas just kept on flowing and flowing and money kept on flying and flying in. George and Fred were overwhelmed with the money and the first thing they had done with their first big pay was repair The Burrow. Molly Weasley had cried in happiness, Arthur had looked closed to tears, so proud that the twins had finally done something responsible and heart-warming.

Working for the twins had been a surprisingly sensible choice for Ginny. She had yet to be at ease anywhere else. She had tried several shops. She had even applied for Madam Malkin's, but she had found that it didn't suit her at all. All the silky clothes and the pins that hurt when you were pierced did not appeal to her in any way.

It had never been her dream to be an Auror, and Harry had been very much disappointed when she had declined his suggestion. But her explanation that she didn't want to chase nor have anything to do with criminals or evil people anymore had softened him quickly and everything had been all right again.

There were other opportunities that had come, but her heart seemed to push away anything else that came her way.

She was reminded of what she had done in the war, how she served for the cause. How she had helped those who were injured and put shelter over their heads. She was good with people, and she had thought it might become a good job if she wanted to be a Healer. Sure, she had applied as a Healer, but deep within her heart, she didn't feel it was right for her. It was too… compassionate for a job. The emotions the job would bring would not be good for her. It would bring too many emotions to surface. She hadn't enjoyed seeing such gruesome wounds on those she had healed in the past. And she had told herself before it was a one-time thing, nothing she would make a career of.

"_Is this your dream job Weasley, to become a Mediwitch? I can't imagine why one would want to be a Mediwitch." _What a person had said before to her suddenly rang in her ears as she pondered it. The words were frank, not much thought of to be perfectly honest, and it spoke of being sheltered. Whoever had spoken these words had never experienced being in an ordinary household, where there were no house-elves to serve you and you knew you'd have to fend for yourself when the time came for you to leave school.

"I don't expect you to understand, Draco," she said to herself in a soft voice, sarcastic in tone. "In fact, I don't think you'd care at all."

But still, Ginny couldn't understand why it mattered to her slightly that he thought it was a condescending job… maybe that was one of the reasons she didn't want to make a career out of it.

**OxOxOxOxO**

Blaise raised a trimmed eyebrow at Draco questioningly, but no other expressions graced his face. "You know her?" he asked him.

Draco flicked his wrist, which he was using to rest his head on, in a careless manner. "A mere acquaintance," he said monotonously. There was no emotion in his face, so Blaise's scrutinising look was useless.

Blaise's family had thought best not to intervene with the war. They were neutral, despite their Slytherin roots. He didn't judge Draco for picking the good side. He would've done the same thing, if he had been forced to make a choice. It was the winning choice, for more people had chosen to fight for the Order after all. Only a person who had bid too much and risked not just their lives but the lives of their family for their personal gain would choose the dark side. And they had not triumphed at all.

He inquired no longer and Draco was relieved, though he didn't show it. "What do you suggest we do?" he asked Blaise.

Blaise tapped his forehead with his index finger lightly, as if retrieving a memory or thinking of a way. Draco never failed to be amused by his friend's weird gesture. It was the only thing he did which was strange. The man was so formal even when relaxed. He was somewhat of an introvert, even in their years of schooling in Hogwarts. He would rather be submerged in books than planning petty ways to annoy Harry Potter. But he had basked in the triumph when they humiliated The Boy Who Lived.

"I suggest that we try again, of course. If she is an acquaintance -" he nodded his head towards the silver-blond-haired boy as he circled the room like a panther waiting and ready to pounce, his steps slow but calculated. It made no sound on Draco's wooden flooring. He favoured wood over a carpet for he wanted to hear whenever someone was approaching but it proved useless when it was Zabini doing the pacing. "- then she'd be easier to persuade if you do it yourself."

Draco's eyebrows raised a notch and if he had been leaning his elbow on the edge of the table, he would've fallen in surprise. "What?" he asked Blaise blankly, startled.

"You should come with me when we try again," Blaise said, his tone of voice suggesting that the immediate course of action was appropriate for deals like this. It went hand-in-hand with the expression 'cut to the chase'.

Draco shook his head disapprovingly. "I doubt that would do any good, Blaise. When Gin-nevra makes her mind, it is hard to make her change it." He almost said her nickname but he easily corrected himself. He felt it was better to keep what had transpired in Grimmauld Place four years ago a secret from Blaise, but wasn't certain where that came from, since he was so used to carelessly telling the man everything. They were like best friends, if such a relationship existed in their society.

"Work your charms on her then," Blaise shrugged. Draco suddenly remembered that once before, Blaise had considered Ginny worth looking at: he had even told pug-faced Pansy, but was too proud a Slytherin to ever approach Ginny. That was before; Draco didn't know if it was still true now.

"Charms? I doubt that will work much on a person involved, or rather, in love with Harry Potter." They both made a sound akin to snorting in unison, looking disdainfully away. "Your charms didn't work?" Draco inquired.

"I haven't faced her yet."

"You led me to believe you have," Draco pointed out, somewhat irritated. He didn't know it, but somewhere in his brain—and in his heart—a part of him asked what if Blaise still thought Ginny was worth looking at? Surely the man would use his _own_ charms to snatch her—if she was snatch-able, what with her situation of being in love with Harry Potter and all.

"I have spoken to her, yes. But not face to face: I used the fireplace." Blaise's green eyes darted about the room as he thought, his hands stuffed inside his pockets. Draco lay back against the back of his chair and briefly closed his eyes. He didn't want to do this work anymore. Tomorrow was another day. He'd let his assistants take care of this.

"Then see if you can persuade her on your own first. If you can't then I shall try." He fiddled with his collar, pretending that it was constricting his Adam's apple.

Blaise nodded, Draco's fiddling not lost on him. "Very well then, I shall try. But I make no promises that I shall succeed. But I do give my word that I shall do my best," he said and departed, walking out of Draco's office without even saying goodbye. They were always that way. There was no need for good byes.

Draco shook his head, emitting a cricking sound from his neck. He stretched, suddenly feeling very tired. He looked up at the ceiling he had enchanted to depict the universe outside. He saw a multitude of stars and the crescent shape of the moon, glowing so brightly it hurt to look at it for a long period with his tired eyes.

Ginny Weasley. He really had not thought of seeing her for a long time. Sure, she dwelled in his mind day after day, but he did not hope to stay true to their words that they would see each other again. They were grown ups now, and they were no doubt both committed to their work. What had happened at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place had been a pleasant mistake. But as pleasant as it had been, he didn't want to be the one to break the much gossiped-about relationship of the famous Harry Potter and the kind-hearted Mediwitch from the war, Ginny Weasley.

He wasn't devious towards people he now considered to some extent his friends. He did not want to destroy the peace they now experienced. What had happened was best left as it was. A memory one might remember when one had the time to. Not when one was busy running an ancestral business. Or a joke shop, in her case.

He slammed his palm flat on his table, sending some papers tumbling. He didn't pay it much heed. His assistants would fix that. He didn't care if they were pissed. They had got their free day off after all. Sure, he had learned a bit of compassion, but he wasn't a bloody saint.

For a long time, he sat there, giving the impression that he was thinking hard, when his mind was very much blank. He tried to think. He didn't like it when he wasn't thinking. It made him uncomfortable.

He heard a tapping sound come from his large glass window that oversaw the whole of the wizarding city Melania. Melania was near Knockturn Alley and quite far from Hogsmeade. Most businesses were there. It was the business wizarding capital of England and famous brand companies and magazine publications like _Witch Weekly_ had their buildings there. When he was younger, he thought Diagon Alley was the centre of everything, but compared to Melania, it was just… well, an _alley_.

The sky was a deep dark shade of blue, reminding him of a painting he had once admired when he was young. It portrayed stars and the moon, and swirling designs of light in the sky and wispy clouds in the night. There was a very big, dark building that loomed intimidatingly taller than any other buildings in the vicinity of the city. It reminded him of Malfoy Inc. He had asked his mother once if she could buy it for him but she had laughed at his childishness, amused. His father had sniffed disdainfully, telling him it was a Muggle painting, and had not moved. He had said he'd rather not taint the Malfoy Manor walls with such trash.

Although Draco had quite disagreed, he had played along, thinking that perhaps his father was right. Whatever he had wanted, it had quickly been given to him, no questions asked. That was how his parents had showed their love and affection for their child, apart from teaching him how to ride a horse and bringing him to wizarding plays. He was still fond of the painting; he had tried to reciprocate it but to no avail. His mother said it was lovely, but he thought otherwise. Nonetheless, he didn't bother thinking about the painting much anymore as time went on. He wouldn't have it anyway, so why bother?

But now that he remembered the painting, he wanted it again. He didn't know in which museum it could be located, or even if it still existed. He had seen it in one of his family visits to France, where his mother had spent her life before marrying.

He walked toward the glass window and slid it open, letting a falcon inside. It was his mother's falcon, Visus with his beautiful elegant feathers and proud, sharp head. Visus meant 'seeing' in Latin and his mother had thought it appropriate for the falcon with its observant eyes. It held its left claw up, where a letter was tied, evidently for Draco. He fed Visus a crumb.

He opened the small scroll and read its contents. It only comprised of two words, commanding in nature.

_Come home._

That was it. Come home. Perhaps his mother felt unrest that her son was not yet home. He scratched a light eyebrow guiltily, starting to fix some of his things he was to bring home. He sighed, snapping his fingers, a command to Visus, and the falcon perched itself on his right shoulder.

"Let's go home, Visus," he said tiredly to the falcon.

He locked the door of his office with eight different magical words. Not that it was needed. There were human and troll guards patrolling the whole building. Still, you couldn't be too careful.

**OxOxOxOxO**

Ginny yawned as she checked the list of 'toys' they sold at the Melania City branch of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. People were already waiting impatiently outside for the store to open. It was close to nine o'clock in the morning and she was still very sleepy. She had stayed up late watching a movie with Harry while cuddling on the couch. They hadn't done anything much, just really _cuddled_, which was a bit disappointing. Sure, Harry respected her and all, wanting to wait until she was ready. But when would _that_ be?

And besides that fact, she rarely got to see Harry these past few months. He was so busy solving some mafia business that the last time they had seen each other before last night was, well… a very long time ago.

There were boxes and boxes of trinkets piled until the highest shelves. The increase of buyers had forced them to open more and bigger shops and to employ more employees to help with the work.

"Miss Weasley, where do you want this Exploding Slime?" An employee with brown hair tied up high in pigtails asked her, carrying a big box of plastic containers which contained varying colours of slime that stuck to anything and exploded quickly afterwards. There was still an empty shelf at the far corner of the shelf close to the doors of the shop. She pointed there and the employee quickly scurried off.

At least her brothers knew how to employ good help. They wanted those who were hard-working, worth their pay, and who had a passion for pranks. And the employees in the Melania branch were certainly that. She had never seen a chipper bunch that loved their job more in her life.

There really wasn't anything to complain about in the job since the twins were firm but nice bosses. They were fair with the fee and fair with the employee's wages. The employees loved them and their patrons loved them even more. She didn't know how they did it, but what a business they had! She also loved working here, seeing the mischievous looks children (the majority of their buyers) flashed when they saw a particular trinket that caught their naughty attention. It reminded her of all of her siblings in their turns. Even Percy had that look and all seven of them looked identical when they did that mischievous grin that promised one hell of a time for them and bystanders.

She checked her watch. The arrow was millimetres to 'opening time' at the left side of her blue watch.

"Okay, people," she called out, clapping her hands, her list tucked under her arm. "Seconds before opening time; get to your posts!" The three cash registrars and the five other employees all assembled at their places, thumbs up to show they were ready. The people outside who looked at them through the glass doors readied themselves anticipatively.

"In five, four, three, two -" She raised her wand, pointing to the lock and shouted, "ONE!" Everything happened so fast. The doors quickly bolted open and the shop was quickly filled with several noises. The cash registers were clicking noisily as money was deposited inside. There were choruses of 'have a nice day' and 'welcome to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' and several others that Ginny heard. She smiled and made her way to her office. She would wait for calls and reports from there.

The day progressed as it usually did until her secretary knocked on her door and told her that there was a 'Mr. Blaise Zabini' who would like to talk to her. She frowned. She had spoken to Zabini before but not personally. She had refused the offer, saying that it wasn't her place to make decisions.

"Can't you tell him to come again?" she pleaded, but her secretary, who was blushing furiously because of the close proximity she had with the dark-haired man, shook her head.

"He's very adamant, Miss Weasley. He says he won't go until he has a word with you," she said, still red in the face.

Ginny sighed. Best get this over with. "Very well, send him in here."

Her secretary nodded promptly and disappeared. There was another knock on the door and a tall, good-looking man appeared, looking around her small office observantly. It made Ginny uncomfortable.

It would be an outright lie to say he was not beautiful. The man was gorgeous! In black robes that fit his tall, broad shape and jet-black hair tousled perfectly fashionable. He looked like a model from one of the novels Hermione has been reading secretly from their fifth year until present. His green eyes were very different from Harry's, for his were darker and mysterious. There was an air of dignity and enigma in his step that she couldn't ignore. He was the type school girls worshipped, that made grown women flock to him and love him so adoringly that they were on the verge of being addicted—if they were not already.

His eyes stopped travelling and looked at her sitting form, nodding in acknowledgement. "Good morning, Miss Weasley," he greeted her.

"Good morning, Mr. Zabini, please take a seat." He looked at the stuffed couch and seated himself, his back ramrod straight, legs crossed in a casual manner, his green eyes trained on her. "What would you wish to discuss?"

What she liked about Blaise Zabini (judging from the first time they had talked and presently) was that he cut to the chase. He didn't prolong what was inevitable unless it was to be used in his own gain. "Miss Weasley, as you know, our company would like to merge with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. We feel that it would be a good opportunity for both parties if we invested in you and you would let us merge with you."

She frowned. She really didn't understand much about business. Sure, she could organise and order around the staff and check out their other branches, but aside from that, she really didn't do much. "I'm really not in a position to decide, Mr. Zabini. The decision rests with my brothers. I'm not really sure what merging would do."

"It would be helpful to both our business," was his only reply.

"Yes, that much is obvious," she said, a bit annoyed, but looking up at him, the annoyance melted away. It was hard to be angry for a long period with such a good-looking bloke. "But the agreements, and everything else in between, I've no idea about it. I'd rather my brothers handle this, Mr. Zabini. They have informed me just yesterday that they are about to come home." She smiled slightly, hoping this would ease Zabini a bit. There was no expression on his handsome face. "So I hope you'll be able to wait til then."

He seemed to ponder this, and uncrossed his legs. "I shall ask my associate what his opinion is on this matter. Apart from that, I thank you for your time, Ms. Weasley." He had the courtesy to smile, and she blushed when he did. He had a little resemblance to her Harry, but had the mystery card playing for him. It was hard to admit but he was ten times more handsome than her Harry was.

"And I thank you for yours." She smiled kindly and he nodded, standing up and shaking her hand firmly. His hands were exceptionally soft, reminding Ginny of a person whom she had months ago shaken hands with, that had similar hands.

Blaise Zabini left just as Ginny's secretary opened the door, and her secretary looked wistfully at Zabini's retreating back. "There goes my prince charming," her secretary sighed wistfully, making Ginny grin. Oh, how love-struck she looked. It was just an example of how Blaise Zabini could charm any girl without even trying. Ginny was lucky he really hadn't tried anything with her. She didn't know how she would have handled it.

**OxOxOxOxO**

Draco had decided to give himself a holiday and sent forth a letter to tell his assistants and the vice-president of Malfoy Inc. to take care of the office while he was gone for the day.

He was still sleeping when he heard a sound at the back of his head and light struck his closed eyes, making him groan in annoyance, sit up and cringe. He had his grey eyes narrowed, seeing his heavy curtains pulled to the sides and the ominous shape of Blaise Zabini stood, leaning on his window, looking down at him from his spot.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here, Blaise?" he mumbled, sitting up ad resting his head against the headboard of his large bed.

Blaise's arms were crossed and he turned his head to look at the garden view of Draco's window. "She didn't agree," he said coolly.

"Who? Some girl you asked to sleep with you?" he asked tiredly, uninterested in whatever Blaise had to say. He lay down again and pulled up his dark emerald- green comforter to his shoulders. "Better luck next time then, mate."

"I didn't mean that. And no one ever says no to me," Blaise informed him darkly. "I meant Ginevra Weasley, your friend," he said coldly, annoyed at Draco's teasing.

"Acquaintance," Draco corrected him sleepily, covering his mouth as he yawned.

"Whatever you wish to call her," Blaise said dispassionately. "She did not agree. She suggested we wait for the twins to come back before we ask to merge again. We can't wait that long, but it is useless to talk to the woman."

"Did you use your charms on her?" Draco said, finally looking awake and sat up to listen seriously.

Blaise shook his head and walked to a wooden chair with a green-cushioned body. "She's with Harry Potter. Bloody good that would bring. She doesn't know anything about business; it's obvious in the way she works and how she answered me. She even confessed it to me."

"Okay then, we wait," Draco said, calling for a house-elf to bring him and Blaise tall glasses of water.

Blaise huffed. "A waste of time. How do we know how soon they'll be coming back? What if it takes them a month? We'll be left hanging and that isn't good. We should do this quickly. We have never let merging go this slowly. This is the first time that we've had to wait for so long. We must execute it quickly." He turned to Draco, his eyes sharp. "It's your end of the deal," he said quietly. "You said that if it didn't work when I took my turn, you'll be the one doing the persuading."

Draco mentally grimaced, wishing for a Time-Turner just then so that he could stop himself from having said such a stupid thing. He didn't want to be in the presence of Ginevra Weasley. There had been a reason they had yet to cross paths since the last time they had met, and he was set not to budge. "You said she wouldn't budge. What gives you the idea that the power is with her? What if she really is in no position to sign? Then our contracts would be void nonetheless."

Blaise stood still for a long while then he shook his head. "_Weasley's_ Wizard Wheezes. Her last name says it all. She has power. They wouldn't let her manage the business while they are gone if she didn't have an ounce of say in anything. I'm quite sure that once she signs, they'd go along."

Draco thought for a long moment before he considered anything. There had been several cases before where the owners themselves had been swayed by loved ones and most especially blood relatives. He knew and slightly envied the tight bond of the Weasley family. He could bet that whatever decision Ginny made, they'd support her, even if she were out of the line, if only to make her learn a moral lesson.

Blaise knew that Draco was befuddled; whenever he didn't know what to do, he would look away, a crinkle appearing near the lower part of his right eye. "It is entirely your choice if you would like to discontinue this pursuit."

Draco didn't want to consider that yet. This was big bucks, as unexpected as it might sound. It would make him richer, and the better his and Narcissa's life was, the better. He didn't want the ancestral business to go down the drain just because he had made a lapse in judgement. "I did say that I would try," Draco said, more to himself than to the man who had situated himself back on the wooden chair, his ankle resting on his leg's other knee. "Draco Malfoy doesn't turn back on his word."

"Unless it would be beneficial or used to manipulate," Blaise drawled out lazily, earning a glare from Draco which he paid no heed to. Draco's intense glares that were known to make most grown men almost wet their pants did nothing to him. He was somehow immune to it. Most of the time.

"Very well, I'll talk to her. But if this doesn't work, I refuse to make a fool out of ourselves any longer and just wait," Draco announced firmly. Blaise nodded, accepting his decision. How could he not? Draco owned most of the company stock anyway.

"I'll hold you to your word, Malfoy," Blaise said, resorting to his family name as they both did when they were serious or in jest or when they just plain felt like it. "For now, I think I shall check on Zabini Enterprises."

Blaise acted as the owner of a company that had merged with Malfoy Inc. years before. It was dully named as Zabini Enterprises. Zabini had little to do with anything, although he owned the company. He let the vice-president and his mother rule it. His mother wouldn't let any of her husbands touch it; except, of course, the first one, who was Blaise's father. They were still friends although they barely talked about anything unrelated to business. Blaise had no love lost for his father. He felt dispassionately for both his parents, which might perhaps have been the cause for his quiet personality. He'd rather work for Malfoy, acting as the manager of companies for Malfoy Inc. than play CEO to Zabini Enterprises any day.

"Very well then, off you go, Zabini and let me sleep. Draw down the curtains, if you please," Draco said, covering himself and quickly falling asleep once again.

Blaise took his leave and disappeared for a few days. Draco wasn't worried. The bloke was probably having a fun time with another fling here and there somewhere. He'd rather not know anyway. Last time he had asked, he had been given the disgusting information that he had been dating former pug-faced Pansy Parkinson, who went under the wand just months before Blaise and her dated. Going under the wand was equal to plastic surgery in the wizarding world. Of course, 'mum's the word' did not _exactly_ exist in the upper crust society. Almost everyone knew what everyone was mostly up to. They just preferred to ignore much of it.

**OxOxOxOxO**

It was already Friday, one of the busiest—if it is not the most—days of the week. Draco found himself standing side by side with Blaise Zabini that Friday morning outside a big shop of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, just as he had promised. He looked outwardly bored, as if this was such a waste of time, when inwardly, he was thinking of a way to get out of this as soon as possible. He didn't want to be standing here, about to do something he might regret or that would make him look stupid, and most of all, he didn't want to see Ginny.

No, he didn't loathe her; quite the opposite, really. The way he was attracted to her just four years ago scared him. He wouldn't admit it to himself, for he was too proud, of course, but he knew that if he were to be in close proximity with the fiery redhead, then he might not be able to control his actions. Blaise looked at him from the corner of his eyes and a smirk formed on his thin, smooth lips, obviously enjoying his friend's discomfort. Although Draco showed none of his unease, Blaise could read it off him. His feet were far apart, as if he were ready to pounce, to bolt or to run. His back was stiff, chin held high, while his grey eyes were narrowed into slits as he looked at the door. It was a blatant confirmation of his unease for someone who knew him so well.

"Turning your back on me now, Malfoy?" He teased him in an arrogant tone which the elite like him used unconsciously.

"I'm standing here, am I not?" he snapped at the Blaise, whose smirk widened in turn. His silver-blonde hair was not gelled as it had been before in his youth. It was fashionably styled so that his hair line was on the side and he had bangs on the sides of his temples. It made him look more mature and more handsome. He was dressed impeccably in green robes of the finest material money could buy. It had cost a lot of money, but to him, it was barely a smudge in his funds.

"Do you need me to hold your hand?" Blaise asked him mockingly, earning a sharp glare from Draco, which shut him up effectively.

"I need not any hand to hold. This is just a deal. I'll probably just need to lean back on a stupid wall while you do the bloody talking," Draco replied, huffing.

Blaise looked at him boredly. "That's all you seem to do anyway," he drawled, not once having seen Draco really work except for that time he had been informed by Narcissa Malfoy that Draco had yet to come home, so he had to rush to the office in the middle of the night to tell the Malfoy heir that the Weasleys had refused to merge yet with Malfoy Inc.

"Hardly," Draco said, huffing as he did so. It was now or never. He started walking towards the two glass doors, and with a snap of his fingers, the doors bolted open, letting the Melania streets hear the commotion inside the shop that was sealed by a very advanced Silencing Charm designed only to break when the door was opened. For a moment, everyone turned to look at them. The little boys looked at their passive faces and went back to what they were doing. Some made faces which Draco and Blaise probably ignored if they ever saw at all. Young mothers seemed to have their whole attention on the two for ten seconds before they were easily distracted by their children. The staff briefly shrugged their shoulders, whispered and got back to work. It would not do well to gawk at two men inside their shop anyway.

"Penny, the box of shrieking light bulbs have arrived!" a voice said, drawing Draco and Blaise's attention, and they both saw Ginny emerging from a door in a corner where Draco could see a small office space from the open door.

Whoever she was calling to did not reply; so Ginny walked completely out of the office, frowning, and into the shop.

A frowning Ginny was acknowledged by the two men and was taken-aback at who she saw. For standing just beside Blaise Zabini was Draco Malfoy.

**OxOxOxOxO**

"Miss Weasley." Blaise was the first to break the trance, forcing Ginny to look at him, but not before darting an uncertain glance towards Draco. He offered his hand and Ginny faintly took it, concentrating hard on him.

"Mister Zabini," she frowned. "I thought we agreed that you would wait."

"I made no such promises, Miss Weasley. I merely said that I would ask for the opinion of my associate." He gestured to Draco Malfoy, who was staring coolly at the high shelves. He seemed to have grown taller for he was already 6'4". She looked like a dwarf, being 5'5" to his staggering height. "And we have decided to seal the deal as quickly as we could."

"A pleasure seeing you again, Miss Weasley," Draco said smoothly, offering his hand.

Ginny took it, very surprised at seeing him again after four years. She was aware that she was staring, but it had been such a long time since they had last seen each other. And then, she was used to seeing his bare back with gashes and wounds on them because of the lashes he had got (which would never fade, so they could be considered as battle scars), with his hair not as tidy as it used to be. His hairstyle had changed and it was more favourable than his past one: it wasn't still nor slimy-looking, which was a big improvement. He looked more assured of himself and had on expensive-looking clothes (not that he had ever worn anything less than exceptionally expensive clothes) which probably suited his standing.

"Miss Weasley, if you would kindly give my hand back to me," he said, amused at how she was gaping up at him as if she had seen someone unbelievable. Although he quite enjoyed the attention, it also disoriented him. "Miss Weasley?" he asked again.

Pity that what would break this trance were words tumbling down her mouth, an unfitting response to his inquiry.

"I still have your black pants," was what she blurted out.

Hearing this, Blaise raised a brow, an amusedly intrigued expression twinkling in his eyes. A smirk was forming in the side of his perfect mouth again. Draco seemed to pale, and nodded his head with as much dignity he could muster. 'Keep it, it's yours as a remembrance,' almost tumbled out of his mouth, but fortunately, unlike Ginevra Weasley, he had more control on his tongue.

"I never noticed it was gone," he decided to say, pulling his hand back and stuffing it inside his black suede pants.

Ginny was blushing so hard when realisation dawned upon her about what she had just said, and people who were mumbling to themselves as they looked for trinkets to purchase were looking at them peculiarly, and Ginny hoped fervently no one would tell any of the magazines or the _Daily Prophet_. "I'm so sorry… It was inappropriate—"

"No harm done, Miss Weasley," Draco cut her off, not wanting to prolong it. He knew that she hadn't meant to say it, since her face was competing with the colour of her hair.

"—that I would not even think of sending them back to you, but it totally slipped my mind and I just remembered it—" she kept on babbling, and slapped her hands onto her mouth when she noticed Blaise hiding his laughter with a cough and that Draco looked as if he was ready to Apparate away from her. "I'm so sorry," she said as sincerely as she could.

"If we could just move on, Miss Weasley," Draco said exasperatedly, looking around the store, glaring at those who dared look him in the eye.

"Right, uhm, this way please," she mumbled, her head bowed low as she went inside her office. Her assistant who was holding the door for them looked at Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini as if she had just won the jackpot lottery. She continued to stare at them dreamily until Blaise, who had been silent through this whole ordeal, nodded his head at her as an indication that she might leave. She hurriedly went off her merry way and Ginny was quite depressed that she didn't have anyone to be with her and keep her strong as she talked to these two men. Then again, her secretary wouldn't be much help, judging at how she gawked at the two men, Blaise especially.

"So how can I help you?" she began, trying to make herself as comfortable as she could. There was no use crying over spilt potion, as the saying goes.

"I'm supposing you already know the answer to that, Miss Weasley," Blaise Zabini said as courteously as he could. Ginny nodded unblushingly.

"I'm supposing you already know that answer to that too, Mister Zabini," she retorted smoothly.

"The problem, Miss Weasley, is that we don't know how soon your brothers are coming home. This offer cannot stand still for months to come. In fact, we make it a point to make deals as quickly as possible without being sloppy with our job. I hope you understand."

"Mister Zabini, my brothers are coming home in three weeks, can't you please wait?" Ginny didn't really know how to act with people like these. She had never experienced doing business first-hand. When she first started, she would see Fred and George discussing properties and WWW matters with businesslike people and all that was appointed to her was the bringing in of the Butterbeer,

"We can't, Miss Weasley. I have full confidence though, that you would know what would be best for your company." The way he said it, it was evident that he meant their company. "Malfoy Inc. would personally see to it that everything goes smoothly. All you have to do is sign some contracts and we've merged."

Malfoy Inc. It seemed that Ginny had stopped hearing whatever Blaise Zabini was saying and her mind had stopped at Malfoy Inc. It was a bad habit of hers to stop and take notice of something in particular that someone had said and just zone out—a bad habit Draco himself had once called her attention on.

She looked at the person who owned said corporation. Draco had a bored expression clearly written on his handsome face as he cradled his lower jaw with his palm, his long fingers curled so attractively that he looked like a wonderful anguished portrait. He looked like he was watching Muggle television, like the one Harry owned and had set up at his inherited house, Grimmauld Place. And from his expression, he might have been watching the National Geographic Channel featuring large African ants and how they were attacked by shielded caterpillars. How fascinating.

"Miss Weasley?" Even though someone had already called her attention, she still seemed drawn to look at Draco's passive face. Only when he flicked his eyes to look at her did she turn away, successfully looking professional and not blushing at all. _Thank you, Fred and George, for mentoring me,_ flashed into her head suddenly.

"I would not want to make decisions which are not mine to make, Mister Zabini. My brothers have entrusted me with the place, it wouldn't be right to break my promise as their employee and sibling," she said, thinking quickly of what she should say.

"And you'd make them proud. You'll be helping them out with this deal," Zabini said, his green eyes looking at her so intently that it was hard not to imagine it a dream that a boy so beautiful would be looking at her. His face was much improved since Hogwarts when it had been narrow.

Ginny bit her lip, her resolve slightly leaning to the side. If she turned them away, there was a possibility that she'd be making a big mistake. Malfoy Inc. was a successful business; it had been for hundreds of years. Why not put her trust in something stable? Merging would help pay some bills, right? Still, it wouldn't be right to her brothers. She was sure that they'd understand if she had to turn this away… But then, she could always contact them via Floo or her head appearing in a Romanian fireplace.

So she had come to deciding, "I shall give you my answer, Misters Malfoy and Zabini, when I have talked to them. I'll be in touch as quickly as I can possibly be." There. That was safe. If her siblings approved, then she'd sign the papers temporarily until they got back from Romania. Although they deserved the rest, she couldn't help wishing they'd just Apparate quickly back here.

Blaise nodded, accepting her answer. "Very well, Miss Weasley. Thank you for giving us your time." He stood up abruptly and so did Draco, looking as though he wanted to yawn and stretch his arms.

Ginny heard Blaise Zabini open the door as she bent her head to arrange the papers on her desk. She could see a pair of legs not far away from her, but her hair obscured her view of the person's face. But she was pretty sure it was Draco.

"You go on ahead, Blaise, it is time for lunch anyway," he declared without a single glance at his watch. Blaise nodded his head and left, but not before raising a brow. He walked nearer to the Ginny who, fumbling with her watch, was also surprised that the meeting had just gone by just like that.

She looked up at Draco and smiled nervously. "Hi, Draco."

**OxOxOxOxO**

"We meet again, Ginny," he said, his lips turning up into a small smile. She looked even more beautiful now that she had matured into a real woman. There was something about her that would just make you look at her. He noticed she had fewer freckles splattered across her nose and cheeks now. _Perhaps it is makeup,_ he thought reasonably, _or a cream that actually works._

"I didn't think it would take us four years to meet again," she said, sounding to his ears as if she didn't believe that four years had passed without them seeing each other even once.

"We were busy," Draco explained for the both of them. There really was no excuse, maybe because it was better that way. The four years that had transpired had been times of great stress for Draco. He had become so busy starting from his first month of work and in a span of months after, he had been so caught up in work he had barely made an appearance anywhere. But after a year or so of getting used to it, he had made time for girlfriends and some parties he could never really stay away from.

She shrugged. "You're right, I suppose. I can understand your part. Managing a big business is surely hard work," she teased. "I'm glad, though, you haven't severed your bonds with Harry."

He shrugged his shoulders. He hadn't seen the man for months now. "How _is_ Potter these days? I haven't seen even a trace of his shadow for months."

A shadow seemed to loom in her eyes and she looked away towards a nonexistent place. "He's fine," she said vaguely and he didn't press on. Perhaps he had been sent on one of his ridiculous missions again (saving creature-wizard bonds were a bore to him, it seemed and so was saving lives not connected to his own) that would take a lot of time to finish.

As they talked some more, she moved through the small space she called her office. She checked on long lists plastered on random places on the walls, pausing only to laugh at something Draco had said or add something of her own. It was when she had raised her hands to put up another one of said lists that Draco noticed that she wasn't wearing a ring on either hand.

This meant she was neither engaged nor married. It surprised Draco, really. Harry could have got Ginny by now. They had been together for so long they probably ended each other's sentences and those sort of cheesy things he'd heard real people in love do. Or probably it was just in the wizarding plays he still kept on watching with his bonding-time with his mum.

"So how come you're not yet married to Potter?" he asked frankly, seeing nothing wrong with it. Ginny paused, taken-aback by his question and not really at all too sure how to react or to answer.

"Well, we're not yet ready, I suppose," she settled on replying, shrugging her shoulders as she did so. "His job demands a lot from him and there are times I don't see him for months. There's also WWW I have to take care of. And before you say it, I haven't found my job calling yet so I'm having a real big trouble finding out what is right for me to do." She offered him a smile, which he did not return, his eyes giving her a look prompting her to continue and she sighed. "I don't want to get married without the security that I can contribute to the expenses."

"You don't have to contribute at all; it is Potter's job to feed the family," he said smoothly, flicking an imaginary fleck of dirt off his shoulder.

"How very sexist of you," Ginny said wryly, continuing with her list. "I want to contribute something and I want a job that I can love with all my heart. Like Harry and Ron like being Aurors and Hermione loves being a doctor."

"Wait, Granger's a Healer?" Draco asked, an eyebrow arched in a questioning manner.

Ginny nodded, smiling. "You thought it would be me ending up as a Healer? Well, she became the Healer—she calls herself a doctor since she's a Muggle-born—I'm sure you opened your mouth _not_ to make a nasty comment but to ask me more."

"And Weasley's—the most stupid one of all, Ron—an Auror too?" Whatever he wanted to add that was meaner, but he kept it to himself as not to rile up Ginny more. He looked at his silver chain watch and was surprised to see it was almost 12:30. No worries. He could take lunches as long as he wanted. "Say, why don't we eat somewhere? My treat."

Ginny frowned, not really in his direction but in thought. "WWW is open even at lunch time and most staff have lunch breaks at separate times to accommodate the people buying their merchandise," she informed him. He didn't speak. She was still deliberating. "But then, I'm really hungry and knowing you, you'll certainly pick a posh place with exceptionally great food. There would be no harm in taking a break, then!" She wasn't giving a straight answer and it seemed to him that she was talking more to herself than to him, as if she was drifting into 'Ginny-land' once again like she used to before and he couldn't quite get the hang of it – which irked him.

"Are you coming?" Draco prodded, suddenly uncomfortable at the thought that she would decline. She fiddled with her long hair, now almost reaching her hips, as she thought. He couldn't take his eyes off her lips, which she continually worried by biting on repeatedly.

**OxOxOxOxO**

"All right then, Draco," she said, her smile turning into a frown of concern as she looked at the cold faraway look Draco had, staring somewhere near her, making no eye contact at all. "Draco?"

He suddenly looked up at her as if nothing was the matter and nodded, opening the door for her and leading her out of the establishment. _How odd_, she thought. She knew that she had no right to judge him. After all, she barely knew him and the time they had spent apart brought her farther from him than before. How could she think it was odd of him to space off just like that?

But deep in her heart, she felt as though she knew him more than anybody could. And it worried and frightened her. What if she worried more for him? What if she really did get time to spend with him? What if they knew each other more than she and Harry knew each other?

Worst, what if she fell in love with him?

**Notes: **

The Painting Draco was thinking of is Vincent Van Gogh's Starry, Starry Night.

Melania is the dubbed name of St. Augustine's lover who his mother urged to leave him. He loved her so much and her him..

**Acknowledgements:**

To Shiiki, my beta-reader


	4. Chapter 4

**More Than Anyone**

_I'm gonna love you more than anyone…_

**Chapter 4 – What I Miss**

"_My feelings for you shame me into silence._

_The trust of this and your name will never_

_be revealed. It is you who has made me_

_realize the failure of my life. The thought of you _

_fills me with longing and at the same time,_

_A burning humiliation that produces_

_scar tissue and dead brain cells. _

_Your existence mocks me and I am unable_

_so confront this._

_None of this is your fault._

_It is completely with me._

_It is you who makes me see what I really am._

_I am weak and out of touch with myself."_

_-Henry Rollins_

Draco decided that what he missed the most about his days in Grimmauld Place was staring at Ginny.

He confirmed it by doing nothing at all but look at her as she studied her surroundings, ignoring the tinkling laughter of well-dressed women on other tables and the distinct laughter of wealthy men. She did not look uncomfortable, despite the fact that if seated beside any of those women she'd look incredibly ridiculous in her working jeans and unadorned sweatshirt. In fact, she seemed rather amused by the scenario. He shouldn't have expected her to be insecure. After all, he'd never seen her fazed in front of opulence, or be intimidated by anyone – much less Draco himself – even if a haughty person might remark that she looked as though she belonged to a factory.

"It's only lunch time and women here are dressed like they're going to a midnight ball," she said softly so that only he could hear and smiled as she did so, her brown eyes twinkling with barely suppressed mirth.

The bistro was small but elegant-looking. It didn't_ reek _of wealth; it diffused the smell through the different fragrances of men and women. It was evident in the customers' sophisticated gestures, the women's coiffed hair and their jewellery. It was the type of place Draco and his friends frequented and the type that Ginny and her friends most probably snorted and rolled their eyes at.

As a diversion, he reached for a glass of water poured by a waiter while trying to regain his senses and quickly wracking his brain for anything intelligible to say. "Maybe they are," he finally settled to say. It sounded like something he would normally say and he thought it worked well for Ginny grinned wider.

She flicked her red hair to the back of her right shoulder, exposing her white neck. Draco found himself taking another inaudible swallow, his unreadable eyes never wavering from the expanse of skin. There was a small wound near her chin that was near to closing and Draco couldn't help but wonder how Ginny got it. She was saying something but he couldn't quite catch it, so with great mental force, he focused his attention to whatever she was going on about.

"-because they could easily ruin the dress before midnight so it's clear that they're just over-dressing," she finished, shrugging her shoulders.

She frowned and cocked her head to the side, looking at him quizzically. He cleared his throat, feeling uneasy under her scrutiny, and laid his glass back on the table. He then leaned back against his chair, pulling his leg to rest his calf on his other knee. He raised an eyebrow at her then imitated the tilting of her head. She rolled her eyes but nonetheless looked concerned… and slightly peeved.

"Were you listening to what I was saying?" she asked him, point-blank.

No, he wasn't. But it would not bode well to admit his inattentiveness to Ginny. He tried to remember the parts that he did hear and concluded she was telling him that the women were just simply over-dressed.

"Of course," he told her. He didn't want to repeat anything she said for he might easily get caught. She narrowed her eyes and nodded her head, albeit suspiciously.

"Then what did I just say, Draco?" she smirked smugly and crossed her arms. Her expression obviously said 'caught you.'

He smirked then but it slightly faltered when she blinked; looking suddenly lost and when she looked away her cheeks were glowing pink. He interpreted it as annoyance. He hadn't said anything yet but he felt like he was already ruining it. He wanted to salvage it, feeling that if this was his only chance to win over _any_ affection from Ginny, then he would damn take it.

"They're not over-dressed, they're just always dressed that way," he said smoothly, pleased when she looked taken-aback, then embarrassed. She was clearly not expecting an answer.

He continued to look at her unabashedly, amused with her as her expression changed until it settled to a blank one. The waiter returned then and handed Draco and Ginny their menus. It was customary for the man to be the one to order and since Ginny looked lost with the French names of food, he took the liberty to order for the both of them, then left Ginny to order her beverage.

"Why do they need to?" she asked him curiously, chewing on her bottom lip as she narrowed her eyes while she read the names on the menu, sometimes murmuring them under her breath.

He shrugged, careful not to rumple his clothes. "It shows your status in life," he explained in a tone that suggested naturalness.

Ginny rolled her eyes and snorted. Draco cleared his throat and was relieved to see that the tables were far away from each other and he had been right to choose a window-side table. Most of the crowd that ate there were in the middle of the restaurant, there was a very slim chance anyone would hear the undignified sound Ginny had just emitted. She busied herself for a while, fumbling with her napkin and settling it on her lap, smoothing out the creases.

"Why do they have to do that?" Ginny wanted to know and Draco found her brown eyes that were so innocently questioning endearing. "Why do _you_ have to do that?"

He didn't know how to answer her question correctly. There was no simple explanation as to why the rich acted the way they did. They understood it as culture and they took to heart every single rule of etiquette and followed them their whole lives. Proclaimed 'bad boys' of wealthy upbringing still knew how to hold a knife correctly and which spoon to use despite their 'roughness.' They would even hold a door open for a lady completely on impulse. It was just how they did things and Draco never understood why people thought too much about it. It wasn't like the rich bothered to scrutinise the ways of the middle-class … which was why he found it so absurd whenever the media praised him for his great 'spoon-handling' – which he took as a compliment to his table manners.

How would he answer her? He could just shrug his shoulders and tell her not to bother him with stupid questions, but knew that the glass full of water in front of him might drench his expensive robes if he did and a huge scene was not what he wanted for lunch.

So he settled for a vague answer. An answer that would still be correct yet would muddle her mind. It wasn't as if he wanted to delude her or make her think that all of the rich people were pompous.

He took his glass and gulped, noting that Ginny's eyes were on him the entire time. It didn't make him very uneasy as it had moments ago. In fact, he took a small pleasure knowing she was looking at him.

"So that they would remember their place," he finally said. For a second, Ginny looked like she was about to tackle him to the ground and shriek, 'that's it?' but then she rolled her eyes and held her head back and laughed, as if she knew and understood perfectly what he was talking about. Her laughter was wonderful to his ears, even though it was a bit loud and it didn't tinkle - he liked it for the fact that she didn't laugh because she wanted him to look (unlike the women he usually spent his extra time with) but because she was actually pleased.

And it ended up making him feel pleased too.

**OxOxOxOxO**

The loud angry sound of water pouring in quick, successive droplets that pelted every exposed surface in what felt like the whole of London pierced everyone's ears. Draco had his gloved hands poised on either side of his waist as he glared at the dark angry sky.

Beside him Ginny was trying to stifle another snort.

Draco didn't bother turning is head. He gave her a sideways glance with the eyebrow she could see arched high. Ginny grinned widely.

"You look like you're ready to chastise the sky for raining," she said, unable to stop sharing her thoughts with him. It was so easy to tell him without restraint anything that popped into her head. A small smirk was almost forming in his rosy lips that seemed to glow from his pale face, before he turned to face her and look down at her from his haughty, man-skyscraper height. It must be nice for him to know that she looked up at him, despite having no other options; he probably took it as an odd show of respect. She stifled a giggle from the pun. Draco continued to emulate a look of intimidating masculinity. Perhaps there was something wrong with Ginny because it almost came across to her as_ adorable_.

"Now admit to me, Ginny," he suddenly proclaimed. There should have been a crackle of thunder from the sky for dramatic effect. His glowing skin should have been illuminated by the contrasting darkness after lightning and… Ginny couldn't concentrate. Not when her scalp felt cold and pinprick-y after inhaling his perfume that intermingled with the smell of rain quite wonderfully. She forced herself to exhale sharply to get it out of her system. To get _him_ out of her system. Ginny's eyebrows both raised in confusion as she tried to focus on what Draco was saying. "… that you have an unlucky birthmark on your bottom that has caused this unholy rain upon us."

She was too baffled to speak. What could she possibly retort to such an accusation? "W-what? I don't have a birthmark on my bottom!" she sputtered, cheeks aflame. He had already turned away from her, his countenance seeming more pleased than a while ago. She huffed in irritation. "Maybe you do!" she shot back.

"Well, I may have one, as you've suggested," he agreed so pleasantly that it made her suspicious. He turned to level his gaze with hers, a sly glint in his eyes. "Would you like to check for me?" he asked innocently, his tone contrasting against his facial expression. His smirk was so wide and utterly pompous. Ginny wanted to pinch his cheek hard, just to see how he would react.

"No. I do not want nightmares, thank you," she answered primly, looking away with a frown. _Bollocks_, she thought; her mouth was fighting the frown she had set upon it. Her lips were twitching up and she felt like laughing. Count on Draco to lighten up the atmosphere with his own brand of humour. Her face was burning up already, and she could imagine in her mind's eye how red her face must be at the moment.

Worst, she kept on sneaking glances at his aforementioned bottom. His smirk said all too well that he knew the direction of her gaze. She glared at him and muttered "asshole" under her breath - which he unfortunately overheard.

"Your mind never strays too far away from my arse, now does it, Ginny? It's not too late, you know. The offer is still available… just that –" he blinked and the smirk faded. He didn't continue.

What? "Well, just that _what_?" she demanded, annoyed that he had left the statement hanging. It suddenly dawned upon her that it would have been connected to Harry. Right. She had a boyfriend. Ginny suddenly felt the urged to smack herself.

She peeked at Draco warily. He was staring determinedly at a point in front of him, grey eyes tinged a bit with blue. His platinum blond hair, his chiselled features, and his white skin that practically glowed… everything about him was different from Harry. It alarmed her how much she could get herself so immersed in him that she would forget all notion of the man that she – she blinked. She couldn't even muster the thought of loving Harry in Draco's presence. It was as if her legitimate romantic relationship with Harry Potter was illicit compared to the unlabeled _thing_ that she has with Draco.

Her heart started to beat rapidly and she struggled to breathe. She stole a quick glance at him again. Ginny shook her head then ran a hand through her untangled red hair. What she felt for him at this moment and the absence of that feeling for Harry troubled her. She honestly couldn't understand why it was so easy to be comfortable with Draco even after four years of not hearing from him at all, when there would be awkward moments that passed with Harry when they reunited after only a few weeks of absence.

She shook her head, willing the straying thoughts to vanish from her confounded mind. There were few sounds that weren't swallowed by the loud noise of rain. She couldn't catch the words a valet was sharing with a waiter behind her. But she could hear Draco's sigh of exasperation directed at the weather when it wasn't as loud. She was so aware of him that it unsettled her. Her lips buzzed with the memory of his lips brushing with her. Four years ago. And she still couldn't forget it.

A straight black blur dashed past her, millimetres away from her nose, eliciting a small squeal from her. Beside her, Draco caught it by the handle and presented it in front of her with a triumphant smirk. _An umbrella, _her mind screamed at her. She let out a nervous giggle, wide eyes regarding the long black umbrella suspiciously.

"Umbrella," she said, pointing a finger at it.

"Wonderful deduction, Ginny. Your keen observations must have helped win you the Snitch during your fifth year," Draco said in jovial sarcasm. He took hold of her by the elbow, and then hooked her arm in his. "And now, we are going to trudge in the rain towards your brothers' shop." Ginny glared at him and fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him childishly.

Their umbrella was at once pelted by miniscule droplets of the sky's tears when they stepped out of the charming bistro. Ginny nearly tripped because of the slippery floor, thankfully biting her tongue before she let out a flurry of colourful profanities. Fortunately, Draco was steady enough to balance both of them and gentlemanly enough not to mention her slip of poise.

"I could have just Apparated back to WWW and you could have done the same to your office," she mumbled, feeling her cheeks heat up despite the chill the rain brought with it.

"True, should I leave you in the middle of the street and take the umbrella with me?" he offered. She felt like stepping on his toe, if not to hurt him then only mar his shiny leather shoes that must have been charmed to withstand weather mishaps.

"If it pleasures you to get a visit from a certain Harry Potter who freely wields his wand – _as an Auror_," she quickly added the last part, seeing Draco's mouth contort into another smirk, his sharp mind swiftly thinking of other interpretations of her statement. "And inconsequently my boyfriend, who will not be so displeased to find a reason to dispose of you."

"Sadly for you, Potter has affection for me," he quipped.

"Then there's my brother," she said sweetly.

"Which one?" He scoffed at the ambiguity despite knowing well who she meant exactly.

"Pick one, there's six of them who would readily do you damage," she continued in her sickly sweet tone.

"I shall have to tell them then about your unnerving fascination with my bottom," he shot back easily, sizing her up with his eyes alone. "I'm sure Ron would love to hear about it."

She grinned with clenched teeth and 'accidentally' stepped on his toe. Draco automatically hissed swear words. "Oops," Ginny said, batting her eyelashes innocently.

**OxOxOxOxO**

"I am glad that's over," Harry Potter murmured to himself, stretching his arms high over his head as he sat on his desk chair. Ron was shaking off his extra adrenaline by doing short hops on his side of the office.

His mind was already working his schedules inside his head, hoping to see Ginny by tomorrow. She would be ecstatic and most certainly relieved that she'd be seeing him more often after this. Well at least until he and Ron got their next assignment.

"Damn right, that what's-his-face Dela Cruz was a bloody idiot – the stick's so far up his ass! Remember when the Aurors dragged him towards the prison bus? He had his chin held high and he was shaking his moustache!" Ron's facial expression and tone was in between irritation and amusement. He hopped more quickly and exuberantly as he rattled on about the man they caught. Harry just smiled in agreement, content that it was done.

Don Dela Cruz was a part of the Spanish mafia that had got caught somehow with a British illegal drug transaction. Harry was glad that the case was over for it had been a while since he could last breathe easily. He and Ron had been so stressed by the case they were working on for three months!

And what a three-month case it was. It was hard enough to extract information from the British who were involved, much more from the Spaniards who pretended they didn't understand English and were quick to draw out their wands for a fight. The translators they had on the job were shaken by the experience.

It had certainly taken up Ron's and his patience. It had tried Hermione and Ginny's patience too. Ron and Hermione had been together for two years now and so far things had been going well, except when both were exceptionally busy. Both understood, of course, what their jobs required of them, but that didn't shake off the uneasiness and frustration of not being able to really be together most of the time.

But of course, their marriage was just starting and with Hermione a month pregnant, it was putting Ron in a crisis. He wasn't sure if he should go on dangerous missions and leave Hermione at home to care of their 'egg', as Ron usually called it (to Hermione's annoyance). Harry grinned, remembering how shrill Hermione's voice was while she was a mere millimetre away from whacking her husband's head.

Ron stopped hopping and sat down at his chair for a long while, looking deep so deep in thought that Harry was surprised when he suddenly opened his mouth.

"I don't think I'll be able to go out in the field with you anymore, mate," Ron said in a pained voice, as if he were being forced by an unseen person to spit it out.

Harry blinked, stunned. Sure, he knew that Ron was worried about what would happen to his child and to Hermione. He was pretty certain Hermione was egging him to just stay but Harry didn't expect **that**.

"What?" he blurted out, for lack of better things to say.

Ron suddenly looked away, picking up the stuffed-toy Hermione had put on his table. She had put it there so that when Ron wanted to release his stress, he could throw the thing around and it'd bounce back to him. But he didn't set it bouncing on the walls of the office this time; he passed it from one hand to the other.

"Our job takes a lot of sacrifice, Harry. I don't want to risk not being there at the most important moments with my family," he explained. He had his head lowered a bit and his long hair shielded his eyes.

Harry didn't speak – he couldn't – he just looked at the ground, at a loss. What would he do without Ron? If Ron left, then everything he had worked hard for would be wasted. Ron would never get that promotion he wanted to the First Rank if he didn't go out on the field.

Another reason – although it might seem selfish of Harry – was that he'd be left alone.

Sure, he'd get a new partner, but it wouldn't be the same. Ron had had his back from day one, right back in his first year in Hogwarts. Not to be able to look at his side and see him there would – dare he admit? – hurt too much.

"Do you remember Neville?" Ron asked him. Harry didn't reply and Ron didn't wait for him to, he just continued. "His parents are gone now. All his life, he really wasn't able to spend it with them. At a young age, he was forced to face the fact that they would never be able to say 'I love you' to him and mean it. His mother was never able to bake him a cake – except of course, for his first birthday, and we wouldn't really know because we never bothered to ask," Ron trailed off, looking distraught as he tried to find more words and it appeared to Harry that Ron was trying much more to convince himself rather than him. "Stuff like that, Harry," he finished pathetically, his hand finally pausing as he squeezed the ball in it.

Harry raised his eyes to look up at him, seeing a blurry image as his glasses were nearly falling off his nose and his head was still slightly lowered. Ron must've felt his scrutiny for he put it upon himself to explain further.

"I don't want that to happen to me. But what I'm really considering is that I don't want that to happen to my child and if I'm exceptionally lucky, my future children." His voice was soft - agonizingly so. He had his head up again and he kept on massaging the ball in his hand, as if he were thinking … but Harry wished he wouldn't because he didn't think he could _hear_ any more.

Harry knew he should say something; he knew he should say that it was all right, that he understood. But for the life of him, he knew it wasn't bloody all right! He felt like his past _and_ present _**and**_ his future were crumbling into dust. He understood everything, but that didn't mean that with only understanding he could change it nor did it mean he could _accept it_ – which was really what Ron was asking from him.

Harry had the habit of running his hand through his messy hair when he was annoyed or angry or frustrated. He did it now as he thought. Ron kept quiet.

It all boiled down to one thing. Harry was going to be left alone – again.

But his thoughts connected with his memories of their Hogwarts days. He would do anything – anything in the world to bring back the people he loved and lost because of the war. Sirius, Cedric… if they hadn't been involved with him, they would probably be alive and happy. But they had been. Harry couldn't take the past back and change it. Especially with all the Time-turners destroyed. What he could do was make up for it now in the present.

Who he was, the Saviour of the Wizarding World, the Boy-Who-Lived, would always bring attention to himself and to those who were close to him. Harry looked thoughtfully at the guilty-stricken Ron; his friend was making a sacrifice and a good decision. _If Ron won't be a part of everything I do, _he thought, _he won't be in trouble. _

It took a lot from Harry to nod in acquiescence of the decision, to support his friend. Managing a smile, he clapped his best mate's back and there was instant relief in Ron's face.

"You'll be a good father, Ron. In fact, you may become the best. But then again I'll be a strong contender one day." He tried for a lame joke and similarly, Ron tried for a lame chuckle.

"Thanks, mate. I have to go and meet Hermione. She's going to want to hear this part as well," Ron said with a small smile, still looking quite uncertain. He stood up and walked away with one backward glance. Then the door closed.

**OxOxOxOxO**

Draco and Ginny never really reached their respective job locations for the reason that women around them started to whisper and point fingers. The women, Ginny observed in dismay, glared straight at her. She peered up at Draco, who radiated annoyance albeit keeping a stoic expression on his face.

"How come you didn't become a Quidditch player?" he asked out of the blue. Ginny blinked, taken aback by his sudden start of conversation. She couldn't yet get a hang of Draco's random conversation-openers.

"I guess it's because – let's not talk about it," she sighed, slightly miffed that he had brought up a sensitive topic.

"Didn't you always want to be a Quidditch player?" he prodded, ignoring her request.

"We don't always become what we want to be. And maybe I didn't want to be a Quidditch player at all. Maybe I just enjoyed the game. Maybe… well there's hundreds of thousands of maybes!" she snapped. It didn't register in her mind that he might just be distracting her from the paranoia about their onlookers. He had hit a vulnerable spot and Ginny's defences shot up.

"You're right," he placated coolly. "We don't always become what we want to be."

She kept her silence stubbornly for a while before mentally admitting her childishness; she sighed and asked softly, "What did you want to be, Draco?"

For a moment he didn't answer. When he spoke, there was a scathing bitterness that echoed in his tone. "Contrary to popular belief, there isn't much place for 'wants' in Malfoy heirs. You're thrust the responsibility of continuing an wealthy ancestral empire once you pop out of your mother's womb and the medi-wizard cries out that you're a boy. It's not that we actually want what we're given or what we have to take. It's like's we're born with an innate ability to rule the conglomerate world."

Ginny briefly wondered, as she hid her face behind her red tresses, if the reason Draco said he got what he wanted was because he barely wanted anything. She deduced that he probably didn't consider not being given what he'd asked for as not getting what he wanted due to the probability that he may not have wanted it at all.

"But if you could want to be someone or something," Ginny pressed gently. She lifted her face to look him in the eye. Draco refused to meet her gaze. He settled his darkening grey eyes elsewhere as if he knew what she was going to ask and he didn't want to answer. "What would you want to be?"

His answer startled her. "I wanted to be a Healer," he confessed. He chuckled without humour and when it died, it left a smirk in his face. That smirked conveyed the irony that Draco surely felt. He continued when he saw her questioning eyes. "I guess gits like me fancy saving people's lives as well."

It felt wrong to have peered inside Draco Malfoy's heart – Ginny's own heart constricted with guilt at having brought it up, though she was pleased that he had answered truthfully. The way he expressed himself, it pretty much seemed as if he'd been keeping this secret 'want' for a very long time. But Ginny didn't apologize. She believed making him open up was good for him. So in return, she confided in him the secret she had been denying for many years:

"I don't know what I want to be," she admitted. It was such a pitifully simple thing to say, yet it yanked so many emotions from her.

The rain suddenly stopped pouring. Ginny kept her head bowed low even as she heard the umbrella click close. Draco sighed beside her.

"I supposed you're waiting for me to speak words of comfort or something dynamically inspiring," he told her, wringing the wet umbrella disdainfully. "But I'm not the sappy type, Ginny, if you haven't guessed yet. If you want, though, we can go to a nearby pub and drown these filthy miseries with strong alcoholic beverages." She felt his eyes on her and sure enough, he was gazing at her with narrowed eyes. "But considering your height and features, they may only want to offer you Butterbeer."

She kicked his shin. Draco bent sharply by the knees. "I guess I'll just have to lead the way."

It was already around three o'clock when they finally parted. Stepping outside, the sun was so high up and the wind blew so wonderfully that no one would have guessed it was raining so heavily just two hours ago.

Ginny giggled and bumped into a sturdy Draco, who didn't even sway a bit. "Bloody hell, you have a penchant for violence!" he cried, surveying his robe.

"You weren't even hurt, Draco," she retorted, sticking out her tongue.

"Never mind getting hurt! I have to go back to the office in pristine conditions," he informed her snottily. He glared at her, and Ginny wondered if the hot pinpricks she felt were from her freckles, ready to burst because of Draco's heated glare.

But she snorted and rolled her eyes. "After all these years, you're still more concerned about your garments than getting hurt. I'll be going now." She started to walk, turning her head back in uncertainly, as if meeting up with Draco again shook her out of a zone of safety. She raised her hand to wave at him behind her, but he held her wrist instead and started walking with her.

Ginny was startled and she frowned. "What are you doing?" He was now pulling her as he walked, making her look like a child who was being dragged behind the parent.

"I am escorting you back to your office, if it weren't already obvious." His sarcasm made her snort. "Will you please stop snorting? It's unladylike," he told her with disdain. She snorted again just to spite him and pulled at her hand.

"Let go, Draco. I can walk on my own." She pulled again. He merely rubbed the inside of her wrist, which sent a pleasant jolt throughout her body.

"The hell you can. If you get mugged in the streets, I will have to listen to Potter rattle his arse away," he called over her shoulder.

"The sun's still high up in the sky. Harry himself doesn't escort me back to the shop." Despite their argument, Ginny was letting him pull her across the street without much of a fight. She rather liked Draco's large warm hand over her wrist.

"That is what separates well-bred, successful men like me who evidently take regular baths from men like your Potter," he answered her gleefully. "And I'm enjoying dragging a Weasley around."

"Have you forgotten about the six elder brothers I have?" she reminded him, gritting her teeth. The wind blew at her flushed cheeks, cooling them. People were starting to look – especially women who arched their eyebrows high up their foreheads. If Draco waved at them, displaying his trademark smirk, Ginny highly doubted they would notice what he was doing to a hapless lady.

Not that she was hapless. And then he just called her unladylike. She smacked his hand but his grip was strong. "I am not unladylike." He made a sound akin to a chuckle.

"Your quick reactions, Ginny, are certainly charming." She felt like kicking him but his long strides separated them enough that she wouldn't be able to even so much as brush her foot on one of his long legs. He pulled her so that she was behind his right side. "But if you were a lady, you'd be appreciative of my gentlemanly actions."

"I'd be a half-wit to thank someone who's dragging me, clearly amused," she replied wryly. She could _feel _him smirking without seeing his face.

"I seldom get entertained," Draco drawled. Once they reached Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, the sounds of children trying to get in and out of the store filled the air. Draco finally let go of her wrist and she held it gingerly, blowing at the heated junction where her forearm connected with her hand. She glared at him and he regarded her with a smirk.

"Miss Weasley," he said formally. "I hope that our conversation helps you reach a decision about which path to take for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes." He extended his hand for a shake and she smiled taking it.

"I usually don't like listening to prats like you, Mr. Malfoy, but I'll tell Fred and George. I think they'll consider it." The shift to businesslike tones made Ginny want to laugh. She had never seen Draco do a business deal but from the way he was acting, she had an inkling of how successful their rates must be.

The tint of light amusement in Draco's eyes suddenly disappeared and so did his smirk. Ginny blinked, noting how serious he suddenly appeared. "Don't I get a prize for chivalrously escorting you back here?"

_A prize_. Ginny's whole face seemed to freeze and burn at the same time. _The last time he asked for a prize_, Ginny recalled, her heart racing faster than it ever had. _The last time he asked for a prize, he almost took with it my heart._ It had been four years since the last time he asked for a prize from her and she could still remember it well. Would she be damned for giving him a prize once more? Would it be imprinted on her mind forever?

"What prize do you want?" she managed to voice out despite her tightening larynx. She tried not to meet his eyes, afraid to see the telltale signs that he was thinking along the same lines as she was. He stepped closer and Ginny had to fight the urge not to step back, to face him.

"Let's have lunch again next time," Draco whispered, his tone of voice belying he had meant to say something more, _something else_; just that he had settled for that alone. Ginny forced herself to nod and to look up.

Draco's eyes were intensely grey with bolts of blue. He looked at her in a way that she hadn't been looked upon in so long a time; she was convinced she had already forgotten the emotions that came with it. But she hadn't. And so she forced herself to flash him a smile which he didn't return. He simply raised his eyebrows in subtle acknowledgement and took her hand. She noticed belatedly that he had handed her the umbrella. She frowned in confusion.

"I'll have to take it from you the next time we meet." His tone was back to its lazy drawl. His eyes were now lidded with what she fervently hoped was only boredom. He started to walk away and with a pop, he vanished.

This time there were no feelings of dismay for Ginny. She gripped at the handle of the umbrella tightly. Ginny knew what it meant. He wanted a reason to come back to her. It made her sigh as she trudged back to work.

She slumped in her chair; her secretary greeted her and inquired about the umbrella. "No, just let it – don't touch it," she muttered, looking at it placed on top of her table.

Knowing Draco, he'll come back for it. Just as an excuse, of course. It confused her. What to feel…or if she should feel anything at all. It didn't seem right at all and her mind flashed an image of Harry. The image of Harry made her smile.

"I love Harry," she said aloud. And an employee who had opened the door to take supplies smiled in her direction, probably regarding her random confession as romantic rather than what it was: a mark of conflicting emotions inside her heart.

**OxOxOxOxO**

Ginny woke up smiling. It was rare that she did but whenever she did, she felt great. She stretched her arms high over her head and looked at the light through her right hand – the light peeking from her fingers.

Yesterday had been a great day - she hadn't seen Draco in such a long time that she felt all giddy when she did. She couldn't really understand it.

Sure, he had been very handsome when she last saw him, in a boyish sort of way. But after four years, his face had matured and he looked manlier. So he was now very, very handsome in a manly sort of way. She giggled. It sounded downright silly, and then she snorted when she remembered the many times her mother had read aloud articles about him in the Witch Weekly, seeming very astonished but pleased by the idea of him turning his life around and becoming such a great individual. She rolled her eyes.

Reflecting on their unscheduled meeting, Ginny remembered their trudge towards the pub. Draco had limped, mostly cursing and calling her all sorts of names which Ginny chose to ignore by humming to herself. Draco had asked about Ginny's work and her life. Work has always been a touchy subject for Ginny but Draco didn't seem to think her unaccomplished at all to still be working at a shop outlet of her brothers'.

As they trudged towards the pub (Draco limped, mostly cursing and calling her all sorts of names which Ginny chose to ignore by humming to herself), Draco asked about Ginny's work and her life. Work has always been a touchy subject for Ginny but Draco didn't seem to think her unaccomplished at all to still be working at a shop outlet of her brothers.

"_You'll find what you want. Or you'll discover it," he assured her, and then sipped at his Firewhisky. Draco, she discovered, did not take swigs from bottles of _anything_. He sipped. 'Like a dainty little girl', she had wanted to add, but knew it was untrue. He sipped in a dignified, snotty sort of way whilst miraculously retaining masculinity. She didn't know how he did it. Ginny decided she was only giving him credit because they were friends. _

"_I hope I find it or discover it soon, because everyone's been pressuring me to get a real job," she mumbled moodily. He didn't tease her, which was what she was dreading and she was grateful that he didn't. _

_In fact, she was surprised when he encouraged her in his own way. "Use your work right now as job experience so you'll know how to handle a hectic work schedule. When you find what you want, you won't be pushed into a world more fast-paced than what you're used to. It's also a plus that you can use your money right now for funds so that you'll have capital when you've decided what you want to be," he advised._

_Ginny looked at him in awe. It seemed like he was the first person to understand what she felt. He said exactly what she'd wanted to hear for so long from _anyone_ she cared for. Or from anyone at all, really. She even felt a little disappointed that the encouragement hadn't come from Harry. He was in fact uncomfortable when Ginny brought up the subject in frustration. _

"_You know, when you speak like that, it's hard to think you were such a meanie when we were younger," she told him cheekily. He raised an eyebrow. _

"_I have never been a _meanie_. What an appalling word! I remember being drop-dead gorgeous and smart and incredibly witty but never that word."_

"_It's all coming back to me now," she teased. He just smirked lazily in return. _

After that, Ginny had let Draco talk about his work. Draco had been intent upon making her understand what it was about that he barely touched his Firewhisky again and neither did she. It was a job forced onto him, the position being passed down by his late father. But he seemed to enjoy it nevertheless. Ginny realized that Draco was fond of his job and thought that maybe if Weasley's Wizard Wheezes did merge with Malfoy Inc., it would only prove to be successful. Malfoy Inc., as Ginny understood, was a very successful merger company that covered everything from clothing lines that ranged from athletic wear to casual, to food and anything else. Draco had explained that he had high hopes for his family's company, hoping that it would serve everyone. He'd said that in years to come, it might not matter much if one was Muggle-born or not since pure-bloods were getting rare.

It awed her that he had such a broad perspective. He had been such a racist in Hogwarts that it surprised her that he would talk that way. Then again, it was a business and he was a CEO looking out for his company. He might not be so fond of Muggle-born witches and wizards, but he wouldn't mind earning from them. But it wasn't just earning that seemed to interest Draco Malfoy. It was also giving back. Malfoy Inc. had set up a fund for medical breakthroughs, using the money to get access to difficult to find ingredients that were being experimented upon by St. Mungo's, in hopes to find several different cures. He also had housing programs for those devastated by Lord Voldemort's attacks several years ago. It impressed Ginny to hear that he was involving himself as actively as he could.

They never mentioned anything about his true aspiration to be a Medi-Wizard. From what he'd said, it seemed he was pretty content with the help Malfoy Inc. provided for those who needed it. He derived satisfaction from being able to step up to the responsibilities thrust upon him. Ginny was sure it did wonders for Draco's ego as well.

Someone knocked at her door and she gave permission for the person to come in. She'd been expecting it to be either her parents or one of her siblings so she was surprised to see Harry looking at her lying on her bed, blushing. She sat up quickly and gathered her blanket, pulling it to her chest.

"Harry!" she squeaked. Harry looked away, turning his face towards the door.

"I'm sorry!" he apologized, bringing up a hand to scratch his head. "I – you said I could come in."

Ginny blushed. She wasn't exactly naked, but she was wearing a short nightdress that had ridden up to her stomach - though she wasn't exactly exposed per se because her blanket hid her knickers.

"Uhm it's alright… you can turn around," she told him. She supposed it wouldn't matter if he saw her naked. In fact, it might maybe give him a push to well… you know.

Harry turned around and looked at her. Well, he looked in her direction but did not make eye contact. She smiled at him so that if he were ever to look he'd see she wasn't cross with him for catching her in her sleepwear. Ginny felt a tinge of disappointment that he didn't seem to be interested when seeing her in barely anything.

"Hey Harry, is there something you need?" she asked him, not knowing what else to say.

"Uhm, I was hoping we would… er… you know, go out on a date?" he asked shyly, his green eyes darting towards her hopefully. She felt a bit giddy that he would be so adorable in his way of asking her out. With Harry, it felt like she was in Hogwarts again and a boy was asking her for the first time.

_It was adorable in some aspects_, Ginny corrected herself. It didn't feel all that good knowing that they were out of Hogwarts and he should be more forward in asking her. But she told herself it was probably because he was still shocked by seeing her dressed as she was.

"Sure!" she chirped. "Just give me a second to get ready." Harry grinned at her and told her he'd wait downstairs. She showered quickly and picked what she thought were the right clothes for her date with Harry.

When she was done, she quickly went downstairs and found Harry sitting on a chair in the Weasley kitchen, talking to her mum. He was holding on to a teacup and he gulped from it as he chatted with her mum. Ginny was too far to hear their conversation but she contented herself with looking at both of them. She tried to picture him a few years from now, when he finally got the courage to ask her hand in marriage, sitting there talking with her mum.

She tried, she really tried hard. But she found that she _couldn't_.

She frowned, but thought it better not to think much of it. Anyway, it wasn't such a big deal for they weren't in any rush to be married, so it would be very understandable if the future was blurry or could not be seen yet. She decided it was time for her to interrupt their tête-à-tête, and walked over.

She put her hands on his shoulders and he tensed suddenly and clutched tightly at his teacup. From the corner of her eyes, she saw him instinctively grip his wand. She let go of her hold on him, taken aback by his defensiveness. He turned around, his gaze sharp, but it softened with relief when he found out it was her. She smiled at him.

"Surprised?" she asked him, slightly stunned and hurt at the same time. He smiled apologetically.

"Sorry about that, it's only that-" he tried to explain but Ginny didn't want to hear any of it any more. She understood.

"It's all right, I understand," she told him. She meant it, and she had used an honest tone but he frowned at the word. She was going to ask where Harry planned to take her but was interrupted by her mum.

"Ginny dear, Harry has just been telling me about how they had finally solved their case!" her mother proclaimed proudly and Ginny grinned, looking at Harry. Harry smiled up at her, shrugging modestly. The case had been plaguing him for months and finally, he had solved it. Maybe that was why they were going on a date right now, to celebrate.

"Congratulations! I'm so happy for you!" she said to him.

"Thanks, Gin," Harry said. "I wanted to take you out, since I know I haven't been very attentive lately." She quickly warmed up to him with his sweet words. It was true that he hadn't been very attentive to her these past few months. Even when they were with each other, he had seemed a bit distracted. How he attached himself personally to the cases he took worried her. Right now, he didn't seem as glad as he was before whenever he solved a case. It was like the enthusiasm had faded a bit from him and Ginny wondered why.

_Something is bothering him_, she thought, looking at him as he traced the rim of his teacup with his thumb. _I have to find out what_. She put a hand on his shoulder again and this time, he didn't tense up or flinch away. He simply raised his head to look up at her with his green eyes. She smiled at him coaxingly.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked him softly. He raised an eyebrow, grinning.

"Aren't I supposed to be the one asking that?" he asked her, his green eyes bright under the tangled mess of jet-black hair.

She laughed. "Well, you're the one sitting there!"

He got up and they said their goodbyes to her mum and they walked off. They reached the middle of the lot before they turned to each other. "Where are we going?" she asked him. He shrugged.

"Anywhere you want to," he told her simply. Ginny rolled her eyes and smacked his arm none too gently. Harry groaned and rubbed the spot without irritation. He was used to her… _brutality_ toward her brothers and himself. He rarely complained, as if the violent gesture oddly endeared Ginny more to him. Ginny found it quite odd and she knew Draco would too, remembering his colourful vulgarities. Then she remembered she shouldn't be thinking of it at all.

"You ask me out on a date and you didn't have a place in plan?" she demanded, her hands on her hips. He grinned sheepishly and scratched his head. Her attention quickly shifted to the mess on top of his hair he unworthily called 'hair'. "It needs cutting," she said, unable to bring herself to call _it_ hair.

"Yeah, I do…" he answered distractedly before continuing in a hopeful tone, "Well, there's this place I was sort of interested to eat in." Ginny linked her arm with his, leaning her head on his shoulder, pleased that Harry was the one insisting to go out in a new place for the first time.

"Lead the way or rather, Apparate us there."

He nodded with a smile and raised his wand as Ginny blinked. When she opened her eyes, she was in a whirl of colours and a few seconds later, they were in front of a small restaurant in Diagon Alley. She hadn't been in Diagon Alley for weeks and it amazed her how much she missed it all of a sudden. Maybe because she had barely felt the weeks pass by because of the fast pace she had to work with in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. She eagerly followed Harry inside and let him do the talking.

A few people stopped to look at both of them, particularly at Harry. Some people still got star-struck whenever they saw him but Harry usually just continued with his business. They sat furthest from the crowd as possible, to be undisturbed. Ginny was all right with it because she wanted Harry all to herself; and because they were usually disturbed by people wanting to talk to him or get a picture with him. She was mostly shoved to the side and they both felt very uncomfortable with that – with Ginny more irritated than he was.

A waitress gave them their menus and they conversed as their tried to pick the meals they wanted. Occasionally, they read aloud interesting names of food and told each other about experiences connected directly or loosely to it. They would laugh at the anecdotes. Ginny was especially pleased to see Harry laugh.

It was when desserts came that Ginny had the opportunity to ask him what was troubling him.

"Harry, are you all right?" she asked him. He shifted, pulling at his ear as he did so – an action he made whenever he wasn't exactly telling the truth – before nodding his head. He shovelled food in his mouth, as if it could save him the trouble of speaking if he did. "Really?" she asked again sceptically. He nodded his head vigorously, pulling at his ear again. "You don't seem all right to me," she said softly.

His eyes were gentle as he looked up at her guiltily. So something was troubling him. Perhaps it was connected to the case? Maybe there was a catch that came when he and Ron solved it. Now Ginny was really worried. Normally he would tell her about how a case had gone, right or wrong, even his opinions about the matter. She would listen to him and would sometimes voice her comments.

"Is this about the case?" she asked. He shook his head. She cocked her head to the side, confused. What could be bothering him? "Is this about Ron?" she guessed. He grew uncomfortable and she knew she had guessed correctly.

"We had a discussion," he told her carefully, as if he wasn't sure what exactly to call whatever Ron and he had gone through. She asked him what it was about. He shook his head. "I can't tell you, Gin. I'm sorry, but it should come from him." At his words Ginny grew uncomfortable, slightly hurt. Didn't he trust her enough to tell her? Maybe he saw the expression on her face, for he quickly tried to amend what he said. "It's not that I don't trust you, it's just that it's not my place to do so. I wish I could, but after he tells you," he sighed, "I will." He looked her in the eye, his green eyes so full of hope that she'd understand that Ginny's mind briefly drifted to the past. They had never completely lost their innocence, the childlike wish for acceptance that Harry had always felt he was deprived of.

She wanted to know more, but knew that if it was anything big, then she would eventually find out. What troubled her was how this would eat away at Harry … and when would she find out? Then she remembered something. "It's family day tomorrow and mum's told everyone to go to The Burrow. You can talk to Ron there," she informed him brightly. He seemed to brighten up at the thought, but he still looked a little nervous.

"Whatever it is," Ginny began resolutely, "Ron loves you and it won't put a strain in your friendship." He nodded slowly, which might have been a gesture of letting her words sink into him but which she couldn't help but interpret as scepticism towards her words. He might believe it, but only because of his faith in his friend, rather than for the reason that it was reassurance from the person he supposedly cherished.

She nodded her head decidedly, despite her thoughts. "I hope it's not going to be very bad news. With Hermione being pregnant, more stress isn't what they should be facing right now."

"It's good news," Harry muttered, biting at his dessert. Ginny looked at him, startled.

"That's good then! So Harry," she started gingerly. "Why do you seem upset?"

Harry didn't speak. He instead reached for her hand and squeezed it gently, as if gathering strength merely from her touch. Ginny wondered why he didn't want to relate it to her, considering she _was_ his girlfriend. She sighed, not wanting to have an argument about it at all and ruin their lunch. She decided not to force him, feeling wearied by the whole ordeal of trying to get information from Harry.

The feelings she had of being left out during their youth always came back to her during these times. She should be assured that she meant something to him. Or else he would not be wasting his time treating her to lunch and neither would he be holding on to her hand. He didn't let go even as he ate.

She couldn't resist reminding him, to remind herself as well. "I'm here for you, Harry. Please don't forget," she pleaded with him. At that, he looked up at her intensely for a second then looked away, pained. He pushed his food towards him on his plate with his fork.

"I won't," he replied quietly. Ginny smiled wanly, feeling not at all better despite reassuring him. She didn't understand why he had to be so difficult with her. She sighed again and looked out of a window, contenting herself with staring at passers-by and vendors littering the streets.

A couple caught her attention. They were holding hands and the girl was saying something to her boyfriend and her boyfriend was looking at her with such affection, as if she was the only one he could see. He seemed to be hanging on to her every word and when she wrinkled her nose at what he said, he laughed, looking completely delighted by her. He kissed her nose and looked at her tenderly. The girl smiled coyly before lifting her lips to his.

For a moment, Ginny was envious. The forming tears made her eyes shine and the sob that wanted to escape from her throat constricted her trachea. She pulled the hand Harry clutched in his back and wiped her eyes discreetly. Harry hadn't even seemed to notice, even after holding it as if he needed it a while ago. He didn't look up as he ate. Ginny tried to send him mental messages to look up, to look at her and smile – just the like the boyfriend had done to his girlfriend outside. Now, how come she hadn't seen Harry look at her with so much affection in a while?

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Note: And that is chapter 4, folks. I hope you liked it! I would not have been able to finish it properly without my beta, Shiiki. You rock. Sorry for the long wait. (Days into Weeks, Weeks into Months, Months in Years) time sadly passed by too quickly and I failed to come up with a chapter I can believe in can you imagine: i have 20 drafts for this chapter alone. Luckily, I am able to work on the next. So please keep faith! You will be blessed! ;) with a new chapter. Heehee.

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